


The pirate and the Prostitute

by tashaxxxxxx



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst, Drowning, Dubious Consent, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Pirate Geralt, Prostitution, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:08:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 67,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26443189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tashaxxxxxx/pseuds/tashaxxxxxx
Summary: The last thing Geralt, Captain of the infamous pirate vessel the Witcher, expected was to fall in love with the prostitute Jaskier.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 39
Kudos: 332





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen a few postings on Tumblr of pirate Geralt and this kind of got stuck in my head so I hope you all enjoy.

“Anyone interest you?” Yennefer’s voice appeared at Geralt’s shoulder as the pirate Captain stood near the entrance to the Lodge’s brothel in the middle of Tortuga. Geralt glanced around the room, noting naked women walking the room, some holding drinks, others sitting in the laps of the cleanly washed pirates. The Lodge was probably the only place in the small island inhabited by pirates that you could guarantee the whores were clean. Partly because if Tissaia de Vries (the madame of the Lodge) caught a single whiff of dirt on any of her customers she banished them from the house.

Once upon a time Geralt would have answered yes to Yennefer’s question but today he just hummed. If he’d wanted a night with Yennefer he would have gone to her home, not to the brothel she helped run. But the last time he and Yennefer had spent a night in heated passion the blow out from it afterwards had been explosive. They’d agreed after that not to let themselves fall into bed with each other again. A night of passion wasn’t worth the fall out and Geralt valued his friendship with the fiery Yennefer too much to risk ruining it for a night in her bed.

That and his crew had threatened mutiny if he got back to their ship in the same state he’d been in last time. Pissed off, angry and a black look that promised the first person that pushed him to far. That person just so happened to be Lambert (the second mate), who Geralt had sentenced to scrubbing barnacles off the Witcher’s hull for the month, much to the amusement of the rest of the crew.

Geralt’s eyes looked over the scantily clad women in the room. It wasn’t really his choice he knew, most of the women here wouldn’t even consider going into bed with the Captain of the notorious Witcher and the other half would do it with fear in their eyes just to say to their friends they’d survived a night in the white wolf’s bed.

His eyes caught the sight of a slender young man. He was dressed in a pair of bright blue breeches, top half covered only by a silky shawl that was wrapped around his shoulders. His short chestnut brown hair was wavy and Geralt knew if he ran his hands through it the hair would be as soft as it looked. When the man (or really boy because Geralt didn’t think he could be older than 20) turned around for a moment Geralt caught sight of the bluest eyes he had ever seen. They seemed to sparkle even in the dim light of the room. He was standing at the bar, two men on either side of him. His face was a light with laughter, smile on his face as one of them men had his hand resting on the boy’s butt and the other was watching the boy with a lecherous smile fixed on his face.

Yennefer saw where Geralt was watching and smiled. “That’s Jaskier. He only started with us a few months ago. Very popular.” Yennefer’s voice was a purr but Geralt barely noticed.

Jaskier didn’t look like the typical type who lived on Tortuga. His face was filled with too much youthful innocence. Anyone who lived in Tortuga for any length of time didn’t have that sort of innocence about them. Either Jaskier was new to Tortuga or his innocent looks were deceiving. Either way, Geralt felt something ugly curl in his stomach as he watched the 2 lecherous pirates surrounding Jaskier. 

“All night.” Geralt growled pulling a bag of coins and dropping it into her hands, not waiting for Yennefer to answer before stalking across the room.

“Hey, find yourself another whore?” The pirate that had his hands groping Jaskier’s butt growled as Geralt walked up to them. As he turned around to face Geralt though the bravado left and he paled significantly. Not many people were foolish enough to piss off the pirate’s known as Witchers, least of all their Captain the White Wolf.

“I paid for the night.” Geralt growled and the second pirate held up his hands. The eyes that had been wandering up and down Jaskier appraisingly since Geralt had spotted them where now turned on the white wolf, fear obvious in them.

“Sure, we’re gone.” And both pirates disappeared. As Geralt turned to face Jaskier, he expected the boy to have fear in those blue eyes and could already feel the pang of regret running through his heart. Except Jaskier didn’t look scared, he looked curious. There was a half-smile on his face as he looked Geralt over. Most people showed at least a hint of fear when they laid eyes on the notorious Captain of the Witcher, but then if Jaskier hadn’t been in Tortuga long Geralt supposed he might not have heard about the Witchers.

“Well, sir, I believe you paid for the night. Shall we stay down here and go somewhere a bit more pirate.” As he said the words, Jaskier leant forwards, so Geralt could feel his breath on his lips. From up close, Geralt could see the defined muscle under Jaskier’s shawl and wondered what it might feel like to wrap his arms around that slim waist.

Swallowing past his dry throat, Geralt hummed and Jaskier laughed. The sound tinkled above the general din of the whorehouse as he wrapped his hand around Geralt’s sword calloused one. Jaskier’s hands were rough in his, callouses of his own rubbing against Geralt’s fingers as Jaskier pulled him out of the main room and towards a set of stairs hidden from view. “A man of few words I see.” Jaskier smiled, voice holding a laugh and Geralt found himself wanting to here that lilting laugh again.

The room Jaskier pulled Geralt into was like most rooms in the Lodge. There was a lush bed sat in the middle, cushions piled at the side. A dark fur rug laid on the floor in front of the bed and deep red and purple curtains hung across the four-poster bed. Extravagant, but then that was the ladies who ran the Lodge to a tee.

“So, what would you like?” Jaskier asked, nimble fingers dropping to pull his breeches down. Before Geralt could blink Jaskier was standing before him naked save for the shawl wrapped around his shoulders. The shaw was a turquoise colour, bringing the blue in his eyes into sharper focus.

“I’m quite adaptable, I assure you.” Jaskier’s arms were wrapping around Geralt now, hand coming to cup Geralt’s growing erection in his breeches. Geralt felt lust run through him as Jaskier’s fingers started to unlace his breeches.

They were close, Geralt could see the blue sparkling in Jaskier’s eyes. Jaskier squeezed him softly through his breeches and Geralt groaned into the feel, seeing the spark in Jaskier’s eyes as he moved back slightly. “Where do you want me?” Jaskier grinned seductively but as he moved away Geralt’s eyes were drawn to Jaskier’s flaccid cock hanging between his legs. He wasn’t aroused.

Like that Geralt felt all the lust he had been feeling fall away as he saw the innocence in those blue eyes. It was hidden well behind the seductive exterior but Geralt could see the minute actions that showed how innocent Jaskier still was. The slight twitching of his fingers around the shawl as he waited for Geralt to tell him where he wanted him. The way his eyes would dart around the room when he thought Geralt wasn’t looking at his face. The way Jaskier kept nervously shifting from one foot to the other.

He couldn’t go through with it.

“I don’t want that.” Geralt growled and he saw a hint of fear sparkle in Jaskier’s eyes but credit where it was due the boy didn’t even flinch. The smile barely faltering as he came up to Geralt.

“Then what do you want. I can…” And Jaskier trailed off, going to drop to his knees in front of Geralt but the pirate captain grabbed Jaskier’s arms, pulling him back to standing.

“No.” Geralt growled and he saw panic flash in Jaskier’s eyes then. Guilt flooded Geralt as Jaskier’s eyes darted around the room now as if that held the answer to what the pirate in front of him wanted. “I mean…fuck.” Geralt had never been good with his words. “Can we talk?”

Jaskier laughed then, the panic disappearing and turning back to the seductive look he’s worn since Geralt had come up to him. “Dirty talk, I can do that.”

“No.” Geralt growled again. “I…just talk. Normally.” And now Jaskier was looking at Geralt in confusion. “Sit.” Geralt growled.

Jaskier hesitated for a moment before sitting on the edge of the bed. The shawl was still wrapped around his shoulders and Geralt saw Goosebumps rising along Jaskier’s bared legs. They may be in the Caribbean but despite the humidity of the day the night air was quick to turn chill. Geralt picked up a dark purple blanket from a plush armchair and dropping it onto Jaskier’s lap.

“Oh,” Jaskier startled, taking the blanket and wrapping his legs in it. He was holding the shawl tightly around his shoulders, eyes watching Geralt with confusion. “Thank you.” Geralt just grunted. “So, talking.” Jaskier started, a dazzling smile on his face but his eyes showed how unsure he was, even if his voice didn’t betray him. “I’ve been told I’m an excellent talker. Or rather, I just never shut up.” Jaskier let out a nervous laugh and Geralt grunted. “Well, what do you want to talk about? I can hold my own in most conversations, so whatever interests you.”

“Yennefer said your name was Jaskier.” Geralt growled. Jaskier startled at the statement.

“Most people don’t call me that.” Jaskier said, voice holding a hint of sadness and Geralt felt anger run through him which…what the fuck?

“What do they call you?” Geralt growled and Jaskier shrugged.

“Whore. Slut. You know the usual.” Jaskier laughed but the laugh didn’t hold the light heartedness it had before, there was an edge to it now and Geralt hummed. “I much prefer Jaskier. Chose it myself actually when…well it’s silly.”

“Not silly.” Geralt grunted. Jaskier blushed at the comment but took Geralt’s comment as invitation to continue.

“I wanted to be a travelling musician you see. I play the lute and I don’t have a half bad singing voice if you believe most people.” Jaskier rambled. His hands were twisting in the fabric nervously and Geralt hummed. How did an inspiring musician end up in the middle of the most notorious pirate island as a prostitute? “Anyhow, that’s enough about me. I didn’t get your name.”

Geralt was silent for a moment before answering. “Geralt.” Jaskier looked at him for a moment and then a light suddenly appeared in his eyes.

“As in Geralt, the Captain of the Witcher? The White Wolf? The butcher?” Geralt growled on that last one and Jaskier quickly apologised. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you but…fuck. I thought you were just a story.” It was turn to be confused. Jaskier wasn’t scared. Jaskier was looking at Geralt with…wonderment? Awe? What the fuck?

“Not the reaction most people give.” Geralt grunted and Jaskier waved his hand in dismissal.

“Fuck most people.” Jaskier swore and Geralt couldn’t help but snort in laughter as Jaskier blushed a beautiful shade of pink. “What’s it like?” Jaskier asked, eyes glistening as he looked at Geralt.

“What’s what like?” Geralt grunted and Jaskier rolled his eyes. All the nerves were gone now and Geralt was a little shocked to see how relaxed and animated Jaskier was becoming. He had forgotten about holding the shawl around himself and it was now sliding down his shoulders, revealing the expanse of pale white skin.

“Sailing on the open sea. The wind in your hair, the adventures. Tell me everything.” Jaskier’s voice was filled with wonder, excitement in his eyes as he waited for Geralt to speak.

Geralt just stared at this strange handsome man sitting naked except for a thin shawl and blanket over his knees next to him. He couldn’t understand why Jaskier wasn’t running scared. Why Jaskier looked so excited at the prospect of hearing about Geralt’s bloody life as a pirate.

“It’s…interesting.” Geralt grunted, having to search for the words for a moment before answering.

Jaskier didn’t appear phased by the lack of response as he continued to talk. “I always loved the thought of having adventures like you must have.”

“Pirating isn’t much fun.” Geralt grunted, feeling himself being sucked into the conversation by simple way of Jaskier’s utter enthusiasm.

“Really?” Jaskier asked, disbelief in his tone and Geralt hummed.

“Most of the time we’re drifting in sea waiting.” Geralt grunted. Those were always the hardest times as a Captain, trying to keep his crew entertained and busy while they waited for their prey to turn up. “Or running from the British and Spanish ships.” Geralt had lost count of the times the Witcher had had to make a fast get a way, cannonball’s being fired into their retreating rear. Not that they didn’t fight back, most of the time Geralt had a hard time keeping his crew from causing the bloody fights.

“Sounds fantastic.” Jaskier answered, voice sincere. “I always wanted adventures.” Jaskier ducked his head a little now. “It’s why I came to the Caribbean.”

“You wanted to be a pirate.” Geralt couldn’t help but snort in laughter at that. The thought of this slim built innocent looking man as a pirate just didn’t seem right.

“Not a pirate.” Jaskier sighed. “But, well I always thought that pirates were mysterious. Adventurous.” Here Jaskier blushed again, eyes ducking to the floor. “I thought they’d make good songs.” And now Jaskier’s tone took on a sad note as he sighed softly into the floor. Somehow Geralt thought that the next words weren’t for him but for Jaskier alone. “Turns out I was the biggest fool in the world.”

Geralt hummed and Jaskier’s face suddenly lit up into a smile but his blue eyes no longer sparkled with excitement and enthusiasm. They seemed suddenly dimmed. “Is there anything else you wanted, beside talking?” And Geralt felt his heart clench at the sadness that underlined Jaskier’s words. “The mistress won’t be pleased if I let you leave unsatisfied.”

“I already paid Yennefer for the night.” Geralt grunted in response and Jaskier breathed a small “oh.” His hands had come to clutch at the shawl again and Geralt was starting to recognise the nervous habit for what it was. He didn’t like it. “I really do just want to talk.” Geralt grunted. “If it’s more comfortable, you don’t have to stay naked either.” And Jaskier sent Geralt a smile of gratitude as he slowly stood up.

The blanket fell from Jaskier’s knees. Geralt watched as Jaskier bent to pick it up, gently folding the soft fabric up and disappearing behind a screen. When Jaskier re-emerged, he was dressed in the same breeches as before but his top half was covered in a bright red chemise. Geralt hummed. As much as he had appreciated the sight of Jaskier’s naked body, he felt himself relax a little more seeing Jaskier fully dressed. No longer looking so vulnerable.

“You’re a musician?” Geralt grunted as Jaskier sat himself back down next to Geralt.

“Yes.” Jaskier’s eyes lit up at the question, a wide smile playing across his face. “I play the lute. Though I can carry a tune with most instruments.” Jaskier’s eyes were once more wide with enthusiasm as he spoke and Geralt got the distinct impression Jaskier was highly proud of his musical prowess.

“Play for me?” Geralt asked, surprising himself with the sudden whim. Usually he didn’t care much for music, finding most songs to bawdy and most musician’s uninteresting but something in him wanted to see Jaskier play. Wanted to hear him sing.

“What would you like?” Jaskier asked. There was excitement in his movements as he walked around the side of the bed and pulled a case from underneath the bed. The lute he pulled out was shined to a wooden gleam, the strings obviously new. From the way Jaskier gently held the instruments in his arms like a newborn infant, Geralt could tell what the lute meant to Jaskier.

“Anything.” Geralt grunted. He’d moved up onto the bed so his head was against the headboard. Jaskier stood at the foot of the bed, frown appearing on his face as he obviously considered what best to sing Geralt.

In the end Jaskier settled for a love song about a sailor who had fallen in love with a mermaid. As Jaskier’s fingers deftly puled the tune from the lute, Geralt felt his eyes close. Jaskier’s voice was a lilting deep melody that brought the words to life in Geralt’s mind. He felt like he was transporting into the song at Jaskier’s every tune and lyric.

When Jaskier finished the closing notes, Geralt opened his eyes and watched as Jaskier gave a flourishing bow. Geralt didn’t know what to say. For a man that had never liked music, he felt like he found a new appreciation for the art in Jaskier’s song. The silence must have lasted to long as Jaskier started to twitch his fingers over the lute, nervously tuning the instrument as he looked at Geralt. “So, what did you think? Three words of less.” Jaskier’s face was bright but Geralt could see the worry in those depths that Geralt hadn’t liked it.

“It was…good.” Geralt grunted, frowning at the bed cover as he spoke. Good, really, he thought. 

“Good.” Jaskier said, gently placing the instrument back into its case. “Good. Excellent I dare say.” Jaskier smiled hesitantly and Geralt grunted, making the smile widen even further. “Perfect even.” Now Geralt chuckled quietly. Jaskier had packed his lute away and stowed it carefully back under the bed as he plopped down on the soft mattress next to Geralt. Jaskier was on his stomach, head tilting upwards to look at Geralt. Geralt just hummed, closing his eyes again.

“For a man of so few words you must enjoy talking if you’re willing to spend good coin on a whore to do it.” Jaskier announced after a few more minutes silence.

Geralt cracked an eye open, looking at Jaskier who was now on his back, looking at the ceiling of the four poster. He was very close to Geralt, legs almost touching and Geralt felt a sudden want to gather Jaskier in his arms and hold him. He didn’t because Geralt didn’t hug people. “Don’t call yourself a whore.” Geralt instead said. There was something so fundamentally wrong hearing Jaskier calling himself that.

“But that’s what I am.” Jaskier said, turning back on his stomach and blinking innocent blue eyes up at Geralt. “Or would you rather prostitute? Slut? I don’t know, thing? Toy? I’m just naming words now.” Jaskier laughed but there was the bitter edge to the laugh. Geralt growled, glaring amber eyes at Jaskier now.

“You’re not any of those things.” Geralt growled.

“Tell that to most of my other customers.” Jaskier laughed dryly without humour. “Shit. Sorry. I’m sorry. You didn’t pay for a night of me complaining. Just ignore all those words.” Jaskier as on his knees now, coming to lean down in front of Geralt, hand moving to gently stroke ant Geralt’s inner thighs. “Tonight I’m whatever you want me to be.”

“I don’t.” Geralt growled, swatting Jaskier’s hands away and glaring at the man when he tried to move them again.

“You my dear Witcher are a strange man.” Jaskier laughed, kneeling back on his heels so he was sat opposite Geralt. “Most people would have had their fill and be passed out sleeping by now.”

“Do you want that?” Geralt asked.

“I’m a whore Geralt, it’s kind of in the job description.” Jaskier laughed but Geralt just frowned.

“Do you want that?” Geralt repeated and he could see the defeat flashing in Jaskier’s eyes.

“No. No I don’t.” Geralt hummed, watching as Jaskier flopped back onto the bed. His head was on the cushion now and if Geralt moved further down the bed they would be close enough to kiss. He wouldn’t, but he could. “I didn’t want any of this. But then, when had life ever given two shits about what anyone ever wants.”

“I can drink to that.” Geralt chuckled and Jaskier laughed then as well. “Sleep.” Geralt said, glancing down at Jaskier who now had his eyes closed and was relaxed against the sheets.

“But you paid for a night with me.” Jaskier protested and Geralt felt his heart clench at those words.

“I paid for your company. Anyway at least you can’t talk in your sleep.” The words were out of his mouth before he thought about it and he tensed, waiting for Jaskier to take the joke as anything but what it was intended as.

But then, Jaskier was a man full of surprises and instead of getting angry or quiet he simply laugh, “Rude. You love my voice.” And Geralt just hummed non-committaly, closing his eyes once more. “Ah, I knew it.” Jaskier announced. He was snuggling further into the bed now, eyes closed as his breathing started to even out. “You’re a strange pirate dear Witcher.”

And you’re a strange prostitute, Geralt thought quietly to himself.

…….

Geralt should have known Jaskier wasn’t quiet in sleep either. The man was curled on his side, blanket draped over his body (which Geralt would never admit to having put over him when he knew Jaskier was asleep). He was quietly muttering to himself in sleep. Random thoughts that didn’t really make sense and Geralt should have been annoyed. Would have been if it was anyone else. But somehow the sounds of Jaskier’s muttering was a comfort in his heart and Geralt found himself dropping into an easy sleep, listening to Jaskier’s voice and soft breathing.

The next morning, Geralt woke to sun shining in through the drapes covering the small window and Jaskier moving around the room. He was humming to himself quietly, still dressed in the clothes from last night as he went about what Geralt assumed was his morning routine. When he heard Geralt stir, Jaskier turned from where he had been gathering an armful of what Geralt assumed was the same material the drapes were made from.

“Good morning my dear Witcher.” Jaskier said, voice cheery. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight filtering into the room and Geralt hummed in response. “Just getting a few things to take down to the streams for washing.” Jaskier continued. “You better get a move on and get dressed. The mistress won’t like it if you’re still here when she comes inspecting. Last man who stayed past dawn got chased out of here with a broom.” Geralt chuckled, he could just see some half naked pirate being chased out of here by a wrathful Yennefer.

And then it hit Geralt that his time with Jaskier was up. A frown appeared on Geralt’s face as he thought about leaving and not seeing Jaskier again. Except. They were in Tortuga for the next 4 days, picking up supplies and letting the crew have a good night’s rest. “Can I come back tonight?” Geralt asked and Jaskier blushed a little at the question.

“Anyone who can pay can come back.” Jaskier responded, tone diplomatic. Geralt hummed. He didn’t know if Jaskier even wanted to see him again but, the night before had been one of the best nights Geralt had had in a long time and he wanted to see Jaskier again. Jaskier approached the bed, arms still filled with clothing and cloth, and a smirk on his face. “Of course if you decide to come back, I can’t very well stop you.” And before Geralt could even begin to understand that, Jaskier had turned on his heel and left. The room suddenly felt a lot colder without Jaskier there.

………

“Where have you been?” Eskel shouted as Geralt walked up the gangplank onto the main deck of the Witcher. Geralt just grunted, hand resting on the sword at his hip. 

“Aidan said Geralt was at the Lodge. Must have been a good fuck judging by that grin.” Lambert laughed. Usually Geralt might have risen to Lambert’s teasing but today he just hummed. His mind was still full of Jaskier. Those blue eyes that Geralt didn’t think he would ever stop seeing until the day he died. 

“Real good fuck if he’s not even shouting at you for slacking.” Eskel grunted and Lambert just shrugged.

There was only a skeleton crew on the Witcher, meaning most of the crew were in Tortuga. Drinking, whoring and gambling probably. Not that Geralt minded, they were pirates after all and they had to let out steam somewhere. Better that than fighting. It left Eskel (the first mate), Lambert (who had been beyond furious that he’d drawn the short straw and had to wait on the ship while the rest of the crew enjoyed themselves inland), Coen and Aukes.

Geralt made his way into the Captain’s quarters and hung his black leather jacket onto the back of a chair. He sat his pistol and sword on the chair with the jacket and turned to the large map sitting on his desk. Geralt sighed, pulling out his navigation tools to begin plotting their next course.

……………..

“Captain, someone here to see you.” Eskel announced as he knocked on the door and promptly opened it. Geralt sighed. His crew really had no manners or patience. Eskel was the only one who even knocked, the rest just barged in here.

Geralt grabbed his weapons and shrugged on the leather coat, curious as to who was here to see him. He just hoped it wasn’t because one of his crew had started a fight. Again. As he followed Eskel to the main deck he stopped short. Standing talking to Lambert was Jaskier, dressed in brown breeches, the red chemise from this morning and a bright blue coat that hung down to the tops of his boots.

Jaskier turned to face Geralt, face beaming with a happy smile as he looked up. “Jaskier this is Captain…” Eskel began but Jaskier cut him off with a smile.

“Geralt, I know. We’ve met.” Lambert snorted behind Jaskier, making a crude gesture with his hand that had Geralt snarling.

“What are you doing here Jaskier?” Geralt growled, feeling a little guilty at the hurt that flashed across Jaskier’s face. He hadn’t noticed before but Jaskier had his lute case strapped behind his back.

“Well, I…I was wondering if you had any openings.” Jaskier’s hand was gripping his lute strap but there was a determination on his face. “For the crew I mean.”

“You want to be a Witcher?” Lambert snorted. Jaskier twirled around and struck Lambert with a glare that Geralt thought Yennefer would have even be impressed with.

“And so what if I do?” Jaskier challenged and Lambert held up his hands in surrender, a smirk still on his face.

“Just surprised lark. You’re not exactly normal Witcher material.” Lambert cd and that was true. All the crew for the Witcher were big burly men. Strong and capable people Geralt trusted and Jaskier…well Jaskier just wasn’t any of those. Tall yes, some muscle yes but not bulky and strong. Not like the people Geralt relied on to keep the Witcher running at its best.

“And what makes a Witcher I wonder?” Jaskier countered, haughty expression running over his face as he continued to glare at Lambert. “Being a fucking arsehole, to whoever walks onboard your ship?” And Lambert laughed now.

“I like him.” Lambert announced, slapping Jaskier on the shoulder.

“No.” Geralt growled. He didn’t want Jaskier on this ship. Jaskier was to damned innocent for a ship like the Witcher, for the men that Geralt sailed with.

Jaskier didn’t move though, turning blazing blue eyes on Geralt. “I left my home to find adventure. It seems to me Captain,” Jaskier put as much emphasis on the word Captain as he could, still glaring Geralt down the whole time, “that the Witcher is the best place to find that adventure.”

“You’ll get yourself killed.” Geralt spat. Jaskier wouldn’t last 5 minutes in a fight. 

“I survived 5 months as a prostitute in a pirate infested island. I doubt a ship full of pirates is going to kill me.” Geralt growled low in his throat at the determination in Jaskier’s voice. Geralt couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t just leave.

“The Witcher doesn’t need a prostitute.” It was a low blow and Geralt knew it, felt guilt run through him at the minute flinch Jaskier gave. Except Jaskier still didn’t back down. 

“You told me last night I’m not a prostitute.” Jaskier flung Geralt’s words back at him, steely look in those blue eyes. 

“Have you even sailed on a ship before?” Geralt growled and Jaskier nodded.

“How do you think I got here?” And Geralt knew he was losing this battle. And he fucking hated it. “I can mop the decks. I can cook a little. And I’m a fast learner.”

“Can give him a trial run.” Eskel added his voice to the argument and Geralt could have turned around and punched him. “Couldn’t hurt.”

Geralt growled at Eskel, Lambert and Jaskier; knowing it didn’t matter what he said now. The decision had already been made without his say so and not for the first time Geralt wondered why the hell the Witcher even had a Captain. “Fine.” Jaskier’s eyes lit with joy but Geralt quickly added. “A trial only. We sail in 3 days. Eskel and Lambert are in charge of you.” Geralt could see Lambert squawking in complaint but it served them right the bastards. “You do everything they say and if they say you aren’t ready to sail you don’t come.”

“I won’t let you down Captain.” Jaskier grinned, smile cheeky as he winked at Geralt. Geralt just growled in response, pushing his way back down the gangplank and into Tortuga. He needed a drink. A very strong drink.

…….

Geralt had fully expected Jaskier to give up within a day. It wasn’t that he thought Jaskier was weak, hell anyone making and living and surviving in Tortuga of all places could never be weak. But being a pirate, being a Witcher, took a special type of man or woman. Only the tough survived out in the open waters, hard men and women who could survive off little to no food and water and sleep. Who had the bravery needed to face not only the hostile ever changing weathers of the open ocean but the constant attacks from other pirate vessels and the law. 

But every day Geralt returned to the ship to find Jaskier still there. And always with that infuriating happy smile on his face. It didn’t matter whether he was standing at the rigging, learning ropes with Coen, peeling potatoes for the surly cook Gerd, running the rigging with Aidan or mopping the floor under Lambert’s watchful eye. Jaskier did it all with a fucking smile on his face as if nothing phased him.

“He can’t stay.” Geralt growled to Eskel as the two sat in the Captain’s quarters with a bottle of rum between them. It was the last night before they sailed for the open ocean first thing and Geralt wouldn’t take Jaskier with him.

“Why not?” Eskel asked, scar twitching on his face as he smirked.

“He’s not a Witcher.” Geralt growled but Eskel just shrugged.

“He’s a good worker, learns fast. And he’s faster on the rigging than even Aidan.” Geralt just growled. He had seen Jaskier just that morning scaling the rigging and had felt his heart drop at the way Jaskier didn’t even seem to look where he was going. “He’s taken to it all pretty well.”

“In the harbour.” Geralt growled. “We get on open water he’s a liability.” Eskel just smirked.

“That’s not the reason and you know it.” Geralt growled, glaring a hole into the table. When it became obvious that Geralt wasn’t going to say anything else Eskel continued. “You’ve never kicked this much fuss about anyone.”

“Jaskier isn’t a Witcher.” Geralt growled and Eskel just shrugged.

“Neither were we at first.” Geralt growled and Eskel took a swig of the rum before continuing. “I’m just saying, he’ll be a good addition to the crew. And he’s already charmed half of the crew anyway, they’ll kick up a fuss if you don’t at least let him come out with us for a few weeks.” Geralt just growled again. It was true. Half the Witchers had already been charmed by Jaskier’s ridiculous outgoing friendly demeanour. The only reason the other half hadn’t been was because they’d been on shore most of the time.

“Fine, but the second I say so we drop him off at a port.” Geralt growled and Eskel smirked at the answer. Anyway, Geralt reasoned, if they took Jaskier out of Tortuga to one of the more lawful ports (maybe George Town) Jaskier would probably stand a better chance of making something of himself.

At least that was the reason the Captain of the Witchers gave himself as he drowned his cup of rum.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: this chapter contains elements of non-con and dubious consent so please do not read if uncomfortable.

Until arriving at Tortuga Jaskier had known very little hardship in his life, though in fairness the man he had been before leaving his Father’s estate was entirely different person than the man Jaskier was. Julian Alfred Pankratz was the son of Governor Alfred Pankratz of Port Royale, an island in the middle of the Caribbean owing severance to King George I.

Julian had spent much of his young life living in London, attending the most prestigious private schools his Father’s money could buy. He wasn’t exactly spoiled but well, he was. Julian had a love of the finer things in life and he wasn’t ashamed of that fact. But while Julian lacked for very little he always felt like something was missing.

At the age of 18 he attended University in London, mastering in Politics and history at his Father’s request. It was in University that Julian started to realise what was missing and Jaskier started to appear. Julian had always been something of a wild child at heart. Always seeking adventure and fun when he should be sat in lessons learning. He had lost count of the times he had snuck out of the dull school lessons and climbed to the top of the private schools roof. The views of the countryside the school resided at stretching for miles. He’d always been punished for those acts of what his teachers called rebellion and Julian only saw as adventure. Straps to the backs of his legs that had left blisters for days but Julian had rarely cared and it had certainly never stopped him.

Arriving at University, Julian quickly found a love for music. Julian had always loved music, finding the complicated melodies and intricate harmonies fascinating. He had begged his Father the summer he turned 12 to let him start music lessons at the next semester and his Father had agreed, albeit unwillingly. The only reason he had even considered Julian’s request was because while Julian was a trouble-maker in the eyes of his teachers (and most adults in his life including his Father), Julian was also very bright and because of that his grades where always near the top, if not the top, of his class. 

Julian had spent years in school mastering the art of al manner of instruments. He could play piano well, could hold a tune with flute and violin. He could even manage a few passable notes on trumpets and the like, though they were definitely his least favourite of the instruments his teachers had him learn. But it was the lute he loved best.

The day he graduated from private school, arriving back at Port Royale with grades none of his teachers had ever expected the easily distracted Julian to receive, his Father had worn a proud smile. He had gifted Julian with 2 gifts that day. The first being a sword, sharped to a fine point with an intricate gold handle. Julian had forced the smile to stay on his face as he had thanked his Father for the gift. He had never been a swordsman no matter how hard his Father tried to forced him to be. The second gift however had set Julian to grinning madly. The lute was made of expensive oak, polished to a gleam. Julian had held it in his hands and the weight of the lute had felt right there. Perfect. He was rarely seen after that day without the instrument strapped to his back, only taking it off when forced to by his Father.

Julian had wanted to study music at University but his Father had refused that request. Julian was the son of a wealthy Governor and would act as such. Thus the dull and boring lectures in politics and history. Julian might have quit long before he graduated if it hadn’t been for an accidental find in London.

Being a university student Julian’s Father had agreed to pay for a small apartment near the university where Julian could live. The freedom Julian had never experienced before was intoxicating and. He made full use of that freedom. Julian spent most of his time out of classes and lectures frequenting all manners of taverns. At first he’d gone with the other University students to the more sophisticated taverns in London, drinking loudly and laughing as University students always did. 

But Julian soon found those sophisticated taverns dull and boring. It was quite by accident he found the Old Dog down a back alley and into a more unsavoury part of London. Julian had actually been heading back to his apartment after a night out drinking but drunk as he was Julian had gotten lost, taking a wrong turn and ending up in front of the tavern. He wouldn’t have gone in save for the sound of loud music and laughing echoing through the open door.

The Old Dog wasn’t like most taverns Julian had gone in, the patrons dressed in rags and most having dirt on their faces. But they were all loud, laughing and singing along to a group of musician’s standing in the centre. Julian had loved it, coming back nearly every day he could. Every day patrons of the taverns would get up and sing and play music for the others, always loud bawdy renditions which had the crowds singing and stamping their feet along to the beat. So after a few weeks of coming to the tavern Julian brought his lute with him. Standing in front of the crowd, Julian picked out one of the songs he had learnt from this very same tavern and sang. The loud and bawdy song would have had Julian’s music tutors shaking their heads in shame but Julian felt more alive than anything, having the crowd singing and stamping their feet to his songs.

Jaskier was a name Julian picked out after a few months of performing at the Old Dog. He had become a frequent performer and a crowd favourite. Julian had even started to write his own songs, testing them out on the joyous crowd who always lapped the songs up. The inn owner had asked Julian for his name, wanting to know the name of the man that brought in such a loud crowd every time he performed. And Julian had hesitated. Julian was the name his Father had given him, the name of a Governor’s son, not the man Julian was when he came here. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw a bright yellow flower, a dandelion sitting outside of the dirty window. It was a weed, Julian knew but the bright yellow was vibrant enough for Julian to see it past the dark and dirt of the window it was behind. From his studies Julian remembered another name for a bright yellow flower and without thinking he had replied “Jaskier.”

Jaskier stuck. It wasn’t long before even his classmates in the University started to call him that and Jaskier couldn’t help but grin every time he heard the name. His name, his chosen name. Jaskier soon gained a reputation in University. He had a love for company, good food and wine. It wasn’t much of a surprise to find Jaskier running from the bed of a lover on more than one occasion, chased out either by the woman’s husband, Father or on occasion angry landlady. And there was of course the rumour that Jaskier slept in not just the bed of women but men as well. This particular rumour was only whispered in corners but they still reached the ears of the tutors.

It was perhaps this latest scandal that finally had Jaskier’s Father alerted to what his son was up to. Jaskier was a few months from graduation when the letter arrived. His Father had arranged transport back to Port Royale as soon as Julian graduated. Jaskier had felt his heart plummet, he had been hoping that his Father would let him stay in London. Let him make his own way in the world away from the ideal image of the Governors son which was expected of him if he returned to Port Royale. But that wasn’t the worst part of the letter. His Father had stated he had arranged a marriage for Julian. With Henrietta de Stael, a Countess of regal standing. It was a good match for Julian Alfred Pankratz, son of the Governor of Port Royale. But for Jaskier it was like a life sentence. The thought of being forced into a marriage, to continue the life his Father had planned for him left Jaskier feeling cold.

2 weeks later Jaskier had packed a bag, bought passage on a ship heading to the Caribbean and left Julian behind. He didn’t know what had possessed him really but Jaskier had known he couldn’t go back to Port Royale and he couldn’t even stay in London. In London he would always be known as the wild Julian Alfred Pankratz and if he went back home he would be married and forced into a life he never wanted. So Jaskier hadn’t thought twice about boarding the ship back to the Caribbean.

Jaskier had spent most of his life in London but he had spent every holiday in the Caribbean. He loved it. The sun, the heat, the people. It was like a whole new world, a world that Jaskier would never see in any other part of the world except the Caribbean. And Jaskier had always loved the ships. He had spent much of his childhood when returning home badgering the ship’s crew into teaching him how to be a sailor. Young Julian had always loved the smell of the sea in the air, the feeling of the wind in his face and the comradeship of the ships crew. It was like a whole new world in itself.

When he had been 13, coming home for the summer to Port Royale, Julian had met an old sailor. The man had told Julian tales of pirates and the high seas. Of mermaids, of sea battle,s of krakens and hidden treasure. Julian had lapped the stories up and he had never really forgotten him. As Jaskier with his new found freedom away from anywhere that might recognise him as the Governor of Port Royale’s son, Jaskier found a new love of those stories. What would it be like to meet a pirate? What would it be like to sail on the seas, going from island to island singing his songs to anyone willing to listen. Adventure had always filled Julian’s heart and as Jaskier he realised he finally had the opportunity to fulfil those dreams of adventure. If he knew how hard it would be to follow those calls for adventure Jaskier didn’t know if he would have had the stomach to do it, but as it was he didn’t so he didn’t even stop to think before jumping on the ship that would take him towards a brand new life.

The ship took Jaskier to the Cayman Islands. Jaskier spent 3 months there, singing in every tavern possible, enjoying the freedom of living in a place where no one knew him. The Cayman Islands were always busy, filled with merchants travelling across the Caribbean selling the wares. It left Jaskier with nearly a different audience every night and Jaskier found the constant influx of new people fascinating. He might have stayed there forever if not for 3 months into his stay when a ship from Port Royale appeared in port.

Jaskier had frozen in place when the Captain of the vessel, Dijkstra, walked onto the harbour. Jaskier had had very little to do with Dijkstra in his whole time in Port Royale, only crossing paths with the Captain when he was visiting with his Father. But he knew Dijkstra would recognise him and if he recognised Jaskier then he knew he would drag Jaskier back to Port Royale. To a marriage and life Jaskier didn’t want.

It was the first night since arriving on the islands that Jaskier didn’t play. Instead he stepped onto the harbour, looking for a ship. He had thought he could get lost not he small islands, he thought no one would ever recognise him but now he knew that wasn’t possible. Julian may have not spent a lot of time in Port Royale but he was still a known face. People would still recognise Jaskier as Julian. And Jaskier didn’t want that. He didn’t want to go back to being Julian, trapped in an unadventurous boring life. So he would have to travel further. Far enough away for people not to know him.

Which was how he found himself paying for passage on a ship heading for Tortuga. The ship he boarded weren’t pirates, rather men that profited from the actions of pirates. They had been happy enough to take his coin and put him to work swabbing the decks the whole journey to Tortuga.

Jaskier couldn’t deny he was apprehensive to go to the island known for its pirate inhabitants but he was also curious. All these years all Jaskier had ever heard of pirates where their unsavoury cruel natures, how the raped and stole what wasn’t theirs. But that couldn’t be all there was to pirates, Jaskier reasoned. Anyone who travelled the seas the way pirates did had to be a brave and adventurous sort. Why else would they risk the hangman’s noose every time they attacked a ship.

Arriving in Tortuga was an eye opener in a lot of ways. Jaskier had always thought himself a man of the world. He had lived in London for years, had boarded a ship in the guise of a completely different person at the tender age of 21. Jaskier had never realised how sheltered he had actually been. He had never wanted for money in London, his Father providing him an allowance that let him live a life with little difficulty. Even arriving at the Cayman Islands Jaskier had never struggled. He had been living in taverns for free, getting food free and even earning a fair bit of coin for his performances. After all, all sailors liked a good rowdy show when drunk on on dry land for the first time in weeks. So Jaskier had never known hardship. Until now.

Tortuga was a completely different place from anything Jaskier had ever seen. Different from anywhere else in the entire world, Jaskier imagined. The first night in Tortuga Jaskier had been laughed out of an inn when he had approached the landlord about performing in exchange for food and a bed. Jaskier hadn’t let that perturb him of course, he was nothing if not an optimist. So Jaskier persevered and managed to find a small tavern on the harbour where the landlord had grunted and agreed to let Jaskier stay with a promise of a meal a day (only a very thin broth but at least it was something on Jaskier’s empty stomach) for a night of singing.

He managed a week in the same tavern, singing and performing for the lice filled straw mattress the landlord had provided him in a room Jaskier could barely walk 3 paces in before hitting either the mattress or the wall, before he decided to try his luck elsewhere. That was his first mistake. When Jaskier came down that morning with his lute strapped to his back and belongings in the canvas bag, the landlord had shouted and kicked him out of the tavern, promising to beat him black and blue if he thought about coming back. 

The problem was, Jaskier hadn’t been getting any tips while at the tavern. Apparently pirates didn’t understand the fine arts of music as they rarely threw anything but insults and the odd bit of moulding food. He was convinced if he broadened the places he performed that he would soon start to earn at least a little money. He was wrong, of course. 

Jaskier attempted to go back to the tavern that had given him a room the very same day he had left, realising his error when he had walked into nearly every tavern along the harbour and wing laughed out. Except as soon as he entered the landlord had jumped the bar, anger clear on his face as he screamed and shouted at Jaskier, chasing the aspiring musician half way up the harbour docks. Jaskier hadn’t dared go near the place since.

That night had found himself missing the straw mattress despite the fact it had itched unbearably as he settled himself against a large box in a corner of the harbour. The chill from the sea left Jaskier shivering in the bright blue coat he had bought in the Cayman Islands. Somehow, he had managed to sleep for a few hours before being woken an hour before dawn by a loud shout of a group of pirates. “Get the fuck out of our shit.” A pirate missing most of his teeth had yelled, kicking Jaskier’s leg harshly. Jaskier had stumbled to his feet, still blinking sleep out of his eyes as he was faced with 5 burly dirty looking pirates.

“Look at him lads, there’s a boy who looks like has money.” Another pirate had said and Jaskier was thankful he had slept with his lute strapped to his back as he started to back away, canvas bag clutched in his other hand. The pirates laughed, following his retreating steps and Jaskier had done the only thing he could think to do. He ran.

He only stopped a few miles after that, blood pounding in his ears as he leant against the wall, silent tears tracking down his face. It was the first, but by no means the last, time Jaskier had wished he was back in Port Royale, safe and sleeping in his own soft bed.

Jaskier soon learnt to appreciate the moody food thrown his way. Most taverns, while never offering the courtesy of a bed or food for Jaskier’s performances, didn’t mind when Jaskier stood up in the tavern and started to sing. In fact, on occasion the pirates even sang along, banging their mugs of ales on the table as they sang to the bawdy songs Jaskier played. They rarely through coins but they nearly always through food. Not because they hadn’t enjoyed the performance, Jaskier realised after a few days of this, but because they thought it was funny.

His performances nearly always ended with pirates throwing food, laughing wildly as a rotten tomato splattered across Jaskier’s face. Jaskier never thought he would be able to stomach the tase of stale moody bread, much less bread that had just bounded off his forehead and landed on the filthy floor but his stomach growled angrily, reminding him last decent meal had been over 3 days ago (the last night in the tavern before Jaskier had made the mistake of leaving, thinking he could do better elsewhere) and Jaskier had forced himself to pick the food from the floor, stuffing it in his pants as he exited the tavern. He ate the bread around the mood, thankful for something on his stomach and, he reasoned to himself, that it wasn’t nearly as bad as starving.

It wasn’t the best way to live, surviving off food thrown at him after performances and sleeping in back alleys, hoping no one would notice the figure curled tightly into a dark corner, but he was surviving. And so what if he cried himself to sleep nearly every night. At least he wasn’t locked in a life that he didn’t want. Except the longer Jaskier spent in Tortuga he realised that maybe the life of Julian Alfred Pankratz wasn’t that bed. At the very least Julian had never wanted for food or a warm bed or even a roof over his head.

A month after arriving in Tortuga Jaskier was exiting a tavern, rubbing at his head which was sure to bruise nastily from the stale bed that he thought might be more of a rock than actual bread hitting his head. He was so focused on this that he didn’t notice the pirate grab his arm before it was too late. “Get off me.” Jaskier yelled, struggled as the pirate just gripped harder, face so close Jaskier gagged at the smell of onion, rum and rotten teeth coming off the man.

“5 if you suck me off.” The pirate growled, hands pawing at Jaskier’s laces. 

“What?” Jaskier choked, trying to push the pirates hands off him so he could step away but the pirate just growled, hand squeezing Jaskier’s cock and making Jaskier blush a deep shade of red.

“I said 5 if you fucking suck me off whore.” And Jaskier felt tears run down his face as he realised he didn’t really have a choice. It was either do what the pirate said or let him rape him.

“Ok.” Jaskier breathed, heart racing as the pirate grunted, hands coming to grab Jaskier’s shoulders and push the younger man down on his knees. Jaskier closed his eyes, not wanting to see what the man did as he heard the rustle of clothing and then the mans cock pushing at his mouth. Jaskier opened his mouth, choking as the pirate shoved his full length down Jaskier’s throat. He might have blacked out for a little bit as the next thing he was aware of was the pirate grunting, hot liquid flooding Jaskier’s mouth and making his stomach churn wildly before being shoved off the pirates cock.

Jaskier ended up on his knees violently throwing up the meagre contents of his stomach. And then the bounce of coins hit his back, scattered on the floor as the pirate walked off. When Jaskier was done retching, feeling suddenly very light headed and still very nauseous, he looked at the dirty copper coins the pirate had thrown him. 5. Just like he said. The first thing Jaskier did was spend the 5 coins on a cold bath in a inn and a thin bony broth which he gulped down in 5 seconds flat. Jaskier should have been embarrassed when he stepped out of the cold bath and saw the water turned nearly black from the first he had scrubbed from himself but he couldn’t. Not when this was the first proper bath he had since that first week in Tortuga.

Jaskier wasn’t proud of the decision he made after that night. In hindsight, it would have been easier just to sell his lute but the thought of being parted with his beloved instrument left Jaskier feeling sicker than he had he first night he had been forced to have a cock down his throat.

Pirates, it turned out, didn’t much care if it was a man or woman underneath them, as long as it was a warm body. Every night Jaskier would perform at a tavern and then walk the streets. The first few times he was to nervous to approach anyone, still feeling sick and violated after the last time. But after a few nights a pirate approached him again, offering him 10 this time to shove his dick in Jaskier’s arse.

Jaskier had never had full sex with a man before. His dalliances with men in London had only involved hands and kissing. The pirate hadn’t much cared about that, shoving Jaskier against a wall and shoving himself into Jaskier’s unprepared hole. Jaskier had screamed at the feeling, hands scrabbling at the wall as the pirate just kept shoving into him, heedless of the pain he caused. Jaskier had ended up onto his knees again that night, this time sobbing violently as 10 coins where thrown at his back. The coins he earned this time allowed Jaskier 3 nights in a tavern, a large hot bath (which Jaskier had soaked in until the water had grown cold) and a large hot pie that had left Jaskier feeling more sick than anything else after a month living off rotten food and very thin broth.

The night he ran out of money and had to go back to sleeping on the streets, Jaskier had already made his decision. He’d been luck the last time, the pirates only causing minor bleeding when he had roughly pushed into Jaskier unprepared. This time, Jaskier made sure to buy a bottle of lube and forced himself to open himself up before he even went in search fo an audience for his lute. It was embarrassing to do the act, hidden in a dark alley as people and pirates went about their daily life at both ends but in the end Jaskier was lose enough to make sure the ride was easier this time around.

After his performance that night, jaskier approached a pirate who had been watching him at the bar. He was nervous and could felt a little sick to his stomach as he walked up to the man, offering what he hoped was a seductive smile. An hour later Jaskier was pressed against the wall of a back alley, the pirate pushing into Jaskier in chase of his own release. This time Jaskier didn’t cry or vomit as the pirate threw the coins at him and walked to leave. Another 10.

After that it became easier and Jaskier son found a routine. Every 3 days (or sometimes 2, depending on how much money the pirates threw his way) when the money ran out, Jaskier would take his lute into a tavern and perform a set. Afterwards, jaskier would locate the pirates that were watching with lust filled eyes and walked over. Giving them the most seductive smiles he could, hands trailing up and down the pirates legs in invitation, and Jaskier would find himself in the back alley. Most of the time he was braced against a wall with his breeches and small-clothes around his ankles as the pirate chased his own desire. Though on occasion Jaskier would find himself on his knees, cock forcing itself down his throat, those were the hardest for Jaskier but he forced himself not to struggle. He’d found if he stayed limp during these encounters they went far quicker and the pirates weren’t anywhere near as rough with him when he didn’t struggle. Afterwards, Jaskier would order a hot bath and scrub himself manically clean, desperate to get the feel of their hands on his body off. It wasn’t a perfect living but at least Jaskier was no longer forced to sleep on the cold hard ground every night.

It was 2 months after arriving in Tortuga and Jaskier was sitting in a tavern, ale in front of him as he tuned his lute in his lap. He was aware of a few pirates eying him and knew eventually one of them would come over and offer him a few coins for a quick something out the back. Jaskier just hoped they waited for him to finish tuning his lute, he hated to be interrupted while tuning it, finding he had to start all over again whenever he was. 

He was so engrossed in his thoughts he wasn’t aware of the black haired beauty watching him from across the room until she sat in the chair next to him. He startled a little before fixing on his best smile for the woman. She was perhaps the most beautiful woman Jaskier had ever seen. Her black hair combed to a shiny gloss came to the middle of her back, her violet eyes vibrant and shining in the dim tavern light. She wore a dark black form fitting dress but just looking at her Jaskier was aware of the raw power in her gaze. He shivered slightly under her look, wondering what she wanted with him.

“Jaskier, right?” The woman said, voice a purr. Jaskier looked at her in surprise. He didn’t know that anyone in Tortuga even knew his name, few people had asked after it, certainly never any of the pirates he sold himself to. “Yennefer.” The woman held out a hand and Jaskier fought to remember the manners he had been raised on.

“A true pleasure to meet you my lady.” Jaskier said, nodding his head in greeting and brining her hand to his lips to give a soft kiss there. Yennefer raised her perfectly coifed eyebrows at him but didn’t say a word. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Those are surprising manners.” Yennefer noted. She had a cup filled with red wine (or at least that’s what Jaskier presumed the red coloured liquid inside the glass was).

“Just because we live on a pirate island I don’t see why manners should be completely forgotten.” Jaskier replied. In truth it had been months since he’d even had a conversation with someone past a quick negotiation of how much a pirate was willing to pay him.

“Hmm.” Yennefer hummed, violet eyes flashing across Jaskier. Jaskier tried not to shiver under the scrutiny of her gaze as she looked him over fully. After a few minutes of silence she suddenly nodded. “I’d like to offer you a position at the Lodge.” 

“The Lodge?” Jaskier asked, confusion lacing his tone and a hint of anticipation as well.

“Yes.” Yennefer explained. “The Lodge is a fine institute which offers the very best to our customers.” Yennefer was silent for a moment and then continued, “In laments terms we’re a whorehouse.” And Jaskier felt his heart sink. She was offering him a job as a prostitution. He didn’t know what else he expected but somehow it still bothered him. “We’ve been watching you for a while and you’ve gained yourself quite a following.” Jaskier blushed in embarrassment at that. He had always wanted a following but he wanted a following for his music not sex.

“I thank you for the request Madame but...”. Jaskier started but Yennefer quickly cut him off.

“You will have a room at the Lodge for the duration of your employment with us. Food is free and so is rent, you’ll have access to baths. Madame de Vries expects all customers and prostitutes to be clean at all times.” Jaskier felt the flush on his face deepen a little further, ducking his head to the floor. “You’ll get 50% of all your profits, the Lodge will keep the rest.”

“I can keep the full 100% without you.” jaskier pointed out, surprised he was arguing with this woman. She was offering him a permanent roof over his head, food daily and a promise of clean baths as often as he wanted. Yes he would still have to sell himself for money but at least he could let that happen in a room with a bed rather than in the dim back alley’s. And the men that he sold himself to would be clean, no more dirty stinking pirates pawing their hands all over him. 

Yennefer smiled, a predatory sort of thing. “The Lodge has much steeper prices than what you earn out here. You’ll be earning double even giving us half.”

Jaskier paused for a moment, already knowing he would agree but he wanted to ask one final question. “I play.” Jaskier said indicating his lute. “I want to carry on playing.”

“The Lodge would be better for a decent musician.” Yennefer stated, violet eyes chaining and Jaskier felt himself smile properly for the first time in 2 months. 

“Then I would be grateful for the opportunity.” Jaskier agreed.

The Lodge wasn’t anything like Jaskier had expected. The room he was shown to was filled with soft surfaces and dark red and purple fabrics. There was a large chest for Jaskier’s belongings and a dark brown screen to provide some privacy in the rooms. The large four poster bed reminded Jaskier a little fo the bed he had had in Port Royale and when he sank to the mates he felt like crying in relief. The bed was soft, not the scratchy irritating straw most of the inns in Tortuga boasted.

For 2 months Jaskier had felt like he was barely surviving in the streets of Tortuga but as he settled into life into the Lodge he could feel the smiles and optimism returning. He was still whoring himself out for the privilege of staying in the Lodge but there was something much different doing it here than it was doing it not he streets. On the streets Jaskier had been acutely aware of the fact one bad move and the pirate could end up killing him or beating him to a pulp and leaving him for dead in the alleys. In the Lodge Jaskier felt, almost safe.

Jaskier worked most nights though he had a few days off every week were he would spend the day luxuriating in the bedding the Lodge provided or walking the streets of Tortuga exploring in a way he hadn’t been able to since arriving here. He found his lust for adventure returning the more and more time he spent in Tortuga, listening to the tales the pirates told.

The nights he worked in the Lodge Jaskier found his time divided. Some nights he would stand in the centre of the Lodge, singing songs to the patrons as they drank and sat with other prostitutes in their laps. Other nights Jaskier would find himself walking the main floor of the Lodge, half naked most of the time with men surrounding him. Their hands would rest on Jaskier’s arse or trace down Jaskier’s chest as Jaskier flirted as outrageously as he could. Yennefer and Madame de Vries (who Jaskier had met only a handful of times since arriving at the Lodge) encouraged their prostitutes to be as flirtatious and seductive as possible. After all that’s what brought their customers in and coming back.

That wasn’t to say Jaskier enjoyed the nights he spend on all fours on his bed or on the floor as a pirate pushed his way into Jaskier, or when Jaskier had to kneel at the side of the bed letting the pirate use his mouth how they wished. No Jaskier, still hated the feeling of those foreign hands sliding across his body and would spend the day after scrubbing himself as clean as he possibly could. But Jaskier found himself settling into his life at the Lodge. It perhaps wasn’t what he imagined for his life but for now he could let himself be happy.

And then the white haired pirate Captain had walked into the Lodge. Jaskier had noticed the pirate watching him from across the room and found his breath hitching a little. The white haired man was no where near the sorts of pirates Jaskier was used to dealing with. Even in the Lodge, most pirates still had some...interesting flaws. Missing teeth, stinking breath, harsh hands. They may be clean but Jaskier was soon learning that even clean a pirate was still a pirate and would look and act exactly that. Very few pirates were what you might consider handsome. Except the white haired stranger was exactly that. 

His white hair was free across his face, coming to reach his shoulders and looked silky as it moved int he slight breeze coming from the street. He wore a leather coat, black shirt underneath with a hint of the muscular chest visible. His thighs wrapped in the black breeches looked as if they could wrap around someone and squeeze the life out of them. And his eyes, fuck, Jaskier didn’t think he had ever seen eyes as deep beautiful as those amber depths.

And then the man had walked over to Jaskier had Jaskier had felt his heart flutter a little in anticipation. Here was the first man Jaskier had met in Tortuga who he might not mind letting use him. Of course Jaskier was wrong. As he led the pirate up to his rooms that anticipation had turned to the same dread that filled Jaskier ever time he brought someone up here.

Except the man hadn’t wanted to use Jaskier like every other pirate had he just wanted to talk. So Jaskier had talked, letting his nervousness come out in a tirade of words. As he talked he waited for the man to cut him off with a slap, or a warning look. Waited for the white haired handsome pirate in front of him to cut him off and change his mind, decide he didn’t want to listen to Jaskier’s ramblings and instead wanted something more.

Except he didn’t, the man just hummed. And then Jaskier had learnt who this pirate Captain was. Geralt, the White Wolf, the Butcher. Captain of the Witcher, a ship whose crew spiked fear into the hearts of even pirates. Jaskier had heard rumours about the Witchers in the last 5 months in Tortuga and whenever they were spoken of it was in hushed frightened tones. And Jaskier should have been scared. Should have been fucking terrified of the man that brought fear to even the cruelest Pirate Captain. But instead all he felt was intrigued.

All the stories said the Witchers were cruel, evil pirates who killed and raped as they pleased regardless of any laws or morals. And all the stories agreed their pirate Captain, the butcher was the worst. A man rumoured to have butchered a whole ship in a frenzy, most feared of all the Witchers. Except this wasn’t the man who sat next to Jaskier, listening to him rambling, asking Jaskier to sing to him.

Geralt had given Jaskier more kindness than Jaskier had received since leaving London. He hadn’t forced Jaskier to do anything he didn’t want to do, had argued when Jaskier called himself a whore. Geralt was...a enigma. And Jaskier was fascinated. How could a man known for being a butcher be so kind and caring. The exact opposite of what all the stories said about him.

Jaskier didn’t know what possessed him to pack a bag and leave the relative safety of the Lodge on a whim. He didn’t know if it was curiosity for the man that Geralt was, so different to what all the stories said about him. He didn’t know if it was a lingering need for adventure that drove Jaskier to demand a place on the Witchers crew. In the end it didn’t really matter what had made him come to the Witchers because the minute he set foot on that ship he knew this was were he was belonged.


	3. Chapter 3

Geralt leant against the ships wheel as he glanced at the rigging which Jaskier was hanging precariously onto with Aidan at his side. The two members of his crew were working at mending a tear in the sail which had happened as a result of his idiot crew members throwing knives at the masts. Geralt had nearly thrown Letho and Aukes overboard when he’d realised what the two idiots were doing to sate their boredom over the last few windless days which had seen the drifting in the middle of the open ocean and barely moving.

Jaskier’s laugh filtered down from the rigging and Geralt found himself smiling softly at that, before realising what he’d done and glowering angrily at the planks below his feet. Fuck. They’d sailed from Tortuga 2 weeks ago, Jaskier in tow and Geralt hated to admit that Eskel had been right but fuck it if his first mate hadn’t been.

Jaskier had picked up sea travel quickly, quicker than anyone Geralt had ever seen in his entire life. And the man did it all with a fucking smile on his face. Every time Geralt saw Jaskier the man was either smiling widely, laughing at something the crew had said or humming and singing as he worked. It was infuriating, not least because every time Geralt saw him he couldn’t help but feel a smile twitch at his lips. And fuck, Geralt had a reputation to hold up, he couldn’t just walk around smiling all the time.

It didn’t seem to matter what Jaskier was doing the man always seemed happy. And that happiness was contagious, making even the grumpier members of Geralt’s crew grin and laugh more than they usually had. Geralt had walked in on a game of gwent 5 nights ago to find Jaskier, Lambert, Aidan, Letho and Aukes laughing and shouting at each other. Drinks were in front of them all, cards in hands and Geralt had backed away from the happy atmosphere quietly, not wanting to disturb his crew in their free time.

“What’s our lark doing up there?” Eskel grunted as he came to rest against the railing, eyes moving to look at where Jaskier was leaning with his back to the open ocean. His legs tangled in the rigging was the only hing keeping him from falling and Geralt felt his heart race a little at the precarious position Jaskier was in.

“Fixing the sail.” Geralt grunted. Aidan was up there with him, that man was a mastermind in the rigging, he wouldn’t have let Jaskier lean like that if he thought their lark would fall.

And shit, fuck Lambert’s nickname for Jaskier. The whole crew had taken to calling Jaskier their lark now. It probably didn’t help that every chance Jaskier got the man would be singing loudly. During his free time, when he wasn’t below decks sleeping or drinking and playing gwent with the crew, the man was not he deck lute in hand as he strummed his complicated melodies to the world at large.

Eskel clapped Geralt on the shoulder, as if knowing exactly what Geralt was thinking given the shit-eating grin he had on his face. ‘Fuck off.” Geralt growled but Eskel had never been perturbed by Geralt’s angry growls.

“You like our lark.” Geralt just growled, eyes moving to gaze at the open ocean in front of them. They were heading for the island of Guadeloupe, Yennefer having informed Geralt of someone on that island who may have information on a large merchant ship travelling to Columbia in the next month. Yennefer had always been Geralt’s best source of information and she was rarely wrong. If she said someone no that island could give Geralt the details the Witcher needed to raid the merchant vessel then that was were Geralt was going.

“The whole crew can see it.” Eskel continued, not bothered by Geralt’s stony silence. Geralt just growled in answer. “Except you and of course our lark up there. There’s a bet going on about how long it’ll take you to to fuck. Personally...”

“Fuck off.” Geralt interrupted. He didn’t want to hear about a bet that didn’t even matter because under no circumstances would Geralt be fucking Jaskier. Even if the sight of the bright blue eyed man sent Geralt’s heart racing every time those blue eyes turned on him and fuck, Geralt wasn’t thinking about that. Jaskier was part of the crew now and that meant off limits.

“Just saying.” Eskel shrugged, clapping a hand on Geralt’s shoulder. “You have the crew’s blessing is all I mean.”

“Fuck off.” Geralt repeated putting as much venom in his voice as he could. Eskel just laughed, but he at least walked away leaving Geralt standing alone at the ships wheel. He didn’t need the fucking crews blessing because nothing was ever going to happen between him and Jaskier.

.......

“Fucking finally.” Lambert swore as he kicked his feet out under the table, kicking his feet out under the table and kicking Aidan in the shins. He threw out his arms wide so they were hanging over the edge of Jaskier’s chair. “I thought we’d never fucking get here.” Here was a shitty tavern in the harbour of Guadeloupe where the a small group of the 24 crew members of the Witchers were currently sat.

“Yeah, the weather was shit.” Aidan agreed, downing the ale in front of him to half full.

“How was that shit?” Jaskier asked. From where he’d been sitting the last 2 weeks, the weather had been glorious. Granted it had been a bit hot and Jaskier had spent the majority of the daylight hours with his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows, sweating under the sun beaming down on them.

“You lark, have a lot to learn.” Lambert grinned while Letho snorted into his drink. Jaskier just rolled his eyes.

“Sailing weather is always best when there’s a good wind to get you along.” Coen stated, always the more helpful of the Witchers. “When there’s no wind we just drift.”

“Makes for a fucking boring journey.” Lambert added, slapping Jaskier’s shoulder. “Anyway, enough talk lets fucking drink.” Aidan and Letho shouted their agreement, the 3 Witchers downing their ales in one and shouted for another. Coen snorted back a laugh but followed their example and called for his own ale. Not wanting to be the one left out, Jaskier took the ale in front of him and downed it.

He choked a little as he finished off the piss tasting ale, tears stinging his eyes as Letho slapped him on the back in encouragement. Another ale was placed in front of Jaskier and he really hoped they didn’t want to down this one to. “So, lark.” Jaskier didn’t know how he had become known as Lark aboard the Witcher but he found his heart warming every time one of the Witchers said it.

“Yes my dear Witcher.” Jaskier grinned at Aidan.

Lambert snorted into his ale at that. “Aidan’s no ones fucking dear lark.” The table ignored Lambert’s words, used the second mates sarcastic comments after years of living on the same ship as him. Hell, Jaskier had realised within the first day that Lambert liked to throw around insults and innuendos as often as possible so he’d learnt pretty quickly not to take to much of what Lambert said seriously.

“What do you think of the Captain?” Aidan asked, amber eyes serious. Jaskier found it a little odd that all of the members of the Witcher crew had similar shades of amber catlike eyes but when he’d asked Eskel about it, the first mate had just shrugged and said, “Genetics.”

“He’s interesting.” Jaskier said diplomatically. To be honest, Jaskier couldn’t seem to get a read on the Witchers Captain. At first meeting Jaskier had seen a kind sweet man but ever since appearing on the Witcher Jaskier had gotten the distinct feeling Geralt didn’t want him there. The man continuously glared at Jaskier’s back as if Jaskier had done something wrong, but then it was hard to decide if it was a glare or just Geralt’s normal resting glare.

“Aidan wants to know how long it’s going to take you to fuck.” Lambert snorted and Jaskier couldn’t help the blush that crossed his cheeks.

“Way to go for subtlety.” Letho marked, taking a drink of his own ale.

“I’m not going to...fuck the Captain.” Jaskier started, tone filled withe embarrassment. He had thought landing on the Witcher would mean he would leave his past behind him but if the crew thought that Jaskier was going to fuck Geralt then maybe he hadn’t. Maybe the last 2 weeks of camaraderie that Jaskier thought he had built with the crew had all been a joke. Maybe they all just saw him as some desperate whore that was only there to keep their Captain’s bed warm.

“Ignore Lambert.” Coen grunted. ‘He’s an arsehole.”

“Hey.” Lambert protested, once more ignored by the table. Letho squeezed Jaskier’s shoulder a little in way of comfort.

“We’re not implying your going to fuck Geralt for money.” Coen continued and Jaskier felt the blush appear on his face for a whole other reason now. None of the crew had made any comments about Jaskier’s past and here Jaskier was thinking that they saw him as a whore when they hadn’t ever mentioned it.

“Sorry.” Jaskier tried, taking a sip of the ale for something for his hands to do besides wringing them nervously in his lap.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Coen stated.

“Yeah, if we all apologised every time we took Lambert’s shit the wrong way we’d be known as the I’m sorry ship.” Aidan snorted and Jaskier grinned a little.

“You know I’m gonna stop thinking with you arseholes.” Lambert commented and they all laughed at that.

“Who else will put up with your bullshit.” Aidan grinned and Lambert kicked him under the table.

“Anyway, lark. Back to the question at hand, when are you and Geralt going to fuck?” Lambert continued, amber eyes turning to Jaskier.

“I don’t think our esteemed Captain wants to fuck me.” Jaskier wouldn’t admit that a small part of him maybe wouldn’t mind if Geralt wanted to.

The Witchers snorted in laughter at that. “You obviously don’t know our Captain.” Aidan grinned and Jaskier just shrugged.

“Well I have only been onboard for 2 weeks.” Jaskier commented, dryly.

“Which means you have never had the fantastic opportunity of spending a night on shore with us fucking fantastic pirates.” Lambert announced, taking the ale in hand and knocking it against Jaskier’s own so hard ale sloshed all over the table. “Now drink up lark, time to initiate you into the Witchers.”

......

Geralt sighed as he watched 5 of his crew stumble drunkenly onto the Witcher. Coen, the soberest of the 5, walked in front almost steady in his strides. Letho behind him walking with a smirk on his face, still the only man Geralt had ever met who could drink a whole tavern dry and appear like he’d drunk shit all. Lambert and Aidan followed, both staggering with their arms wrapped around Jaskier. Jaskier was in the middle, drunken smile on his face as he laughed loudly, stumbling between the 2 Witchers.

“Fucking idiots.” Geralt grumbled as Lambert, Aidan and Jaskier staggered up the gangplank. All 3 stumbled, ending up sprawling onto the deck. Their laughs echoed off the ship and Geralt couldn’t help but feel a smile appear on his face as he listened to the loud laugh coming from Jaskier. From here, Geralt could just make out the drunken glaze in those bright blue eyes, vibrant even in the near dark.

He had originally planned to find a way to leave Jaskier in Guadeloupe before they headed backs to sea but now, watching as Jaskier laughed with his crew mates Geralt realised he couldn’t just make Jaskier leave. In the last 2 weeks Jaskier had made himself as much a part of the Witcher as any of the crew. If Geralt forced Jaskier to leave the backlash from his crew would be unbearable. They’d probably mutiny if Geralt even considered making their lark leave. And well, if Geralt was honest with himself (which in the case of Jaskier he really wasn’t) he had gotten sued to seeing Jaskier around the ship. Losing him would be...wrong.

Sighing, Geralt turned away from his crew and headed back to his quarters. Yennefer’s informant had been as good as she suggested he would be. Geralt had met him in one of the quieter taverns so no one would see the two together. The man hadn’t given his name but Geralt hadn’t asked, hadn’t cared enough to know. All that mattered was if the informations as right.

The man was a nervous one, nearly running from the table when he saw Geralt approach. Obviously Yennefer hadn’t told the informant that he was meeting with a Witcher, not surprising really. Few people agreed to meet with a Witcher unless they didn’t know they were. His eyes had been dancing from side to side the whole time they spoke, fear obvious in the very way he held his body tensed to run if need be. Geralt didn’t care, simply sitting quietly as the man told him everything he needed to know.

2 weeks and the merchant ship would be travelling on the route which Geralt had carefully laid out on his maps when returning to the Witcher. A large vessel, twice the size of the Witcher, but not a fighting one. It was carrying cargo, no weapons or soldiers. An easy target. Geralt stood over the maps, working out the best place for the Witcher to lie in wait for an assault. If they left in the morning then they’d get into position on time.

Geralt wasn’t worried about a confrontation anyway. His Witchers were always ready for a fight, hated it more when they didn’t get a chance of at least a little bloodshed. But the thought of Jaskier in the fray had doubts circling in Geralt’s head. Jaskier wasn’t a fighter, anyone who looked at the slim optimistic vibrant man knew that. And now Geralt would be bringing their lark into the fray of a fight. He’d have to do something, Geralt resolved as he glared at the map. He couldn’t let Jaskier go into the fight unprepared.

.......

They set out of Guadeloupe that morning, much to the dismay of 2 of the crew. Letho barely looked phased from the heavy drinking of the night before and Coen, even the silent type took to his designated tasks with a quite grimace but no complaint. Lambert and Aidan on the other hand were a completely different story.

“Fuck.” Lambert growled for the 6th consistent time. He and Aidan were leaning against the rails, glaring at the sun as if it had wronged them personally.

“I agree.” Aidan grunted. “Fuck.” Jaskier laughed as he diligently mopped the area of the decking Eskel had told him to clean that afternoon after the last sight of shore had disappeared into the horizon.

“What about you lark?” Lambert asked, eyes closed against the blazing sun.

“I’ve had worse.” Jaskier shrugged. He’d been a University student and while they were by no means pirates, University students had an uncanny ability to drink to the point of passing out and still make it to their early morning lectures.

“Worse.” Lambert opened his eyes, ogling at Jaskier in disbelief. “How is there worse?”

“I thought pirates could handle their drinks?” Jaskier asked, smirk on his lips as Aidan just groaned, leaning back against the rails further.

“Fuck you lark.” Lambert swore and Jaskier couldn’t help but laugh again at those words.

“Lambert, Captain wants to see you.” Eskel’s loud voice rang past Jaskier and the hungover Witcher groaned in response. Aidan laughed, clapping the man on the back.

“I didn’t start any fights, what does that bastard want now.” Lambert moaned as he walked away. Jaskier found himself joking Aidan as he watched Lambert’s dejected form walk up to where the Captain stood, as always glaring at the sea behind the ships wheel.

......

“Captain?” Lambert grunted, pulling Geralt from his staring of Jaskier. “Finished staring at our lark?” Geralt just grunted, turning his eyes back to the open ocean as Lambert came to rest at the rail, Eskel next to him. Jaskier was bent over the mop, laughing and talking with Aidan as he went about the days tasks. Geralt couldn’t help but stare at the start of the tan making its way up Jaskier’s uncovered forearms or the fact that the shirt he wore did little to hide the hair gathered at the top of Jaskier’s chest.

“We’re heading to meet a merchant vessel. 2 weeks.” Geralt grunted, ignoring what Lambert had said. Geralt didn’t need to look behind him to see the smirk on Lambert’s grin or the nod of approval from Eskel. It had been nearly a month since their last skirmish and the crew were getting antsy. A good fight would do them good.

“Want me to tell the crew?” Eskel asked and Geralt grunted.

“I need someone to train Jaskier.” Geralt growled, eyes moving to where Jaskier was no alone on the deck. The wind carried the soft tune Jaskier was humming under his breath as he worked to Geralt’s ears.

Eskel lifted an eyebrow, confusion in his tone. “Train?”

“Yes.” Geralt growled, angrily. “We’re going into a fight, he needs to know how to fight.”

“Somehow I doubt he’s going to be in the fray.” Lambert pointed out but Geralt just growled. 

“He needs to know how to protect himself.” Geralt just growled and Lambert shrugged.

“It’ll probably give the crew something to occupy themselves with for the next 2 weeks.” Eskel added and Geralt just grunted. He didn’t care what the crew did to occupy themselves as long as someone made sure Jaskier wasn’t completely defenceless.

“Any reason why you’re not doing it yourself?” Lambert asked and Geralt growled a low warning. “Hey, fine. Suit yourself, we’ll get all hot and bothered with Jaskier instead of you.” Geralt clenched his fists around the wheel, purposefully ignoring Lambert’s words knowing the man had only done it to get a rise out of the Captain. after a few moment Lambert shrugged, stalking back towards the deck towards Jaskier.

“Still in denial?” Eskel asked casually and Geralt growled again, turning angry eyes to his first mate. Eskel just smirked, pushing off the railing and to leaving Geralt alone. “I’ll go and let the crew know.”

..........

Jaskier held the sword Lambert had pressed into his hands hesitantly as Lambert stalked in front of him. Eskel, Letho, Aukes and Aidan were also there and Jaskier was aware of the eyes of the Captain from the upper decks. “Guard up.” Lambert growled, swishing his sword in a vicious movement and Jaskier barely had the time to pull his sword up to deflect the blow. Lambert’s hit was vicious, nearly sending the sword knocking from Jaskier’s hand but he kept it helped (somehow).

“Guard up.” Lambert repeated, moving once more to attack. This time Jaskier was ready and he managed to keep his balance as the sword came clanging down on his own. Lambert grunted, approval in his eyes.

They repeated this a few more times, Lambert grunting every time Jaskier blocked. Jaskier arm was beginning to ache from holding the sword up and from Lambert’s insistent attacked on him. This wasn’t like the training his Father had forced on him as a child. They had mainly consisted of going through the stances, rarely passing into actual practices and even when Jaskier ended up practice fighting his opponents always went easy on him. No one wanted to damage the Governor’s son after all. Lambert wasn’t going easy. Not by a long shot.

“Hey.” Jaskier shouted as Lambert suddenly dived in, getting past Jaskier’s guard with a neat feint and pointing the sword flat at Jaskier’s heart. 

“You’re dead.” Lambert stated, voice bland.

“You didn’t give me a chance.” Jaskier defended.

“Your opponent won’t give you a chance either.” And well, Jaskier couldn’t argue with that logic.

“You know Lambert, I don’t think the swords a weapon for Jaskier.” Aidan stated.

“Daggers maybe?” Aukes suggested and Lambert grinned, pulling out a dagger hidden somewhere, Jaskier had no idea were considering the man had no shirt on and surely the dagger would have been visible from his breeches, and spun it in a circle catching it in one hand with a grin.

“What do you think lark?” Lambert asked and jaskier just stared at Lambert incredulously.

“You’re serious aren’t you.” Jaskier stuttered. When Lambert had come to him saying they were going to train Jaskier had thought it was one sort of pass time but this was the most serious Jaskier had ever seen Lambert. “I’m not a fucking fighter.”

“But you are a Witcher, right?” Eskel asked and Jaskier turned surprised eyes onto the first mate.

“I am?” Jaskier asked, hesitance in his voice.

Eskel grunted in answer. “Course you are.” Letho grinned, slapping Jaskier’s back.

“The Witchers lark.” Aidan added and Jaskier felt a hesitant smile on his face. He’d only been onboard the Witcher for 3 weeks and they already considered him one of them.

“Then, yes. I am.” Jaskier replied to Eskel’s first question. Eskel grunted in approval as Jaskier turned back to Lambert. “So, daggers?” Lambert grinned as he handed the dagger to Jaskier handle first.

“First thing you need to know about a dagger is it’s close and bloody work.” 

......

Geralt tried not to wince as he watched Jaskier train. They’d been at this all afternoon and Jaskier was proving to be anything but a natural. The sword, Geralt had quickly realised, was not a weapon for Jaskier. Jaskier could barely stop his hands from shaking as he held the sword up above his head but Geralt was impressed to see he was holding out against Lambert’s hits. Granted they took a pause after each attack, which would never happen in an actual fight, but at least Jaskier was still standing.

When he heard Eskel’s question to Jaskier, Geralt had felt his heart stop as he waited with bated breath for the answer. He knew his crew thought of Jaskier as a Witcher already but hearing Jaskier say yes, he was made that a fact rather than the crews wishful thinking.

Jaskier saying he was a Witcher actually made it real. It cemented the fact that Jaskier was here to stay and Geralt felt a warm spread of happiness fill him at the same time as dread. If Jaskier was here to stay then that meant Jaskier had agreed to become a pirate and not just any pirate, a Witcher. That wasn’t a safe career choice in Geralt’s experience. Which made it all the more important that Jaskier learn how to defend himself. The Witchers would try to protect their lark as much as possible but in the heat of a battle it would be easy to leave Jaskier undefended.

......

It turned out daggers were a perfect fit for Jaskier. The weapon didn’t feel nearly as clumsy in Jaskier’s hand as he held it out in front of him, listening to Lambert’s advice on where best to plunge the dagger for the best affect. “Remember, daggers are best in close quarters fight.” Lambert was saying.

“Means you have to get up close and personal.” Letho added from behind and Jaskier nodded.

“So.” Lambert continued, eyes alight as he gripped the sword in his hand. “Let’s see what happens.”

Jaskier felt apprehension build in him even as he nodded. Lambert grinned, not waiting a moment longer before bringing his sword down. It was wrapped in thick cloth so if it did accidentally graze Jaskier it wouldn’t draw blood but it would leave a good sized bruise in it’s wake. Jaksier instinctually ducked from the blow, barely standing straight before Lambert was lunging cowards again.

“Attack is the best defence.” Eskel stated from the sides as Lambert attacked again and watching as Jaskier jumped away. Just in time, the sword grazed the side of his arm and Jaskier grunted a little at the impact the tip had made. If it hadn’t been wrapped in cloth his arm would be bleeding from a long and probably deep cut.

Taking Eskel’s advise, the next time Lambert attacked instead of dodging the blow Jaskier ducked under the sword, ignoring the whistle of the blade above his head, and dove forwards. Lambert grunted in surprise as Jaskier tackled him to the ground, momentum giving him the strength needed to know Lambert on his back. Without hesitating Jaksier brought the dagger to Lambert’s throat.

“I’m impressed.” Lambert grunted as Jaskier leant backwards. Jaskier offered Lambert a hand and the pirate took it with a shit-eating grin.

“Not easy to impress Lambert.” Aukes stated, clapping Jaksier’s shoulder in encouragement. Jaskier grinned then, the dagger still held tight in his hand. His heart was beating quickly, Adrenalin running through his veins as he stood there.

“Just remember.” Eskel said, voice quiet but no less commanding. “Killing someone is a lot harder than it looks.” And the silence that followed proved the truth of Eskel’s words.

........

The Witcher had anchored in their waiting spot 2 days ahead of the merchant vessel. Currently Geralt was standing on the top deck, eyes scanning the open ocean in the dwindling twilight. The sun was slowly setting, casting an orange glow across the ship. “Beautiful.” Jaskier’s voice startled Geralt out of his thoughts.

“What?” Geralt blinked, turning to look at Jaskier in surprise. Jaskier blushed, wringing his hands together.

“I said it’s beautiful. The sunset I mean.” And Geralt hummed in response. It was beautiful. Made all the more beautiful as the orange reflected in Jaskier’s bright blue eyes, hair highlighted in the orange sunlight and making it look almost red.

“Very.” Geralt agreed, not moving from where he was looking at Jaskier. Jaskier blushed again.

“I can go if your busy.” Jaskier stated and Geralt found himself shaking his head.

“Stay.” And Jaskier did. He moved to stand hands against the rail as he looked out to the open ocean. Geralt found his eyes staying fixed on Jaskier as he stood there. “I never got to say thank you.” Jaskier suddenly said, turning blue eyes onto Geralt. “For letting me come with you. I...it’s more than I could ever have imagined it.”

“You can thank the crew, they fought for you to come.” Geralt grunted in response.

“I will.” Jaskier promised before laughing. “Think I did repeatedly the other night in Guadeloupe.” Geralt just hummed in response. “Still not much of a talker.” Jaksier noted and Geralt just grunted. “It’s ok. I like it. The silence I mean.” And Geralt was starting to think the pink blush on Jaskier’s cheeks might stay their permanently at this rate. “I mean, I know I talk a lot but I always liked the quiet.” Jaskier’s voice had gone a little farther away. “At least, I used to.”

“Used to?” Geralt grunted and Jaskier just shrugged.

“It used to be a good time for composing, to settle my thoughts now...well you spend to long with your own thoughts and you start to go places you shouldn’t.” Geralt frowned, wondering what Jaskier meant by that. But Jaskier just shrugged, plastering on a melancholy smile on his face. “But that’s enough talking. Quiet. We were enjoying the quiet.”

“We don’t have to.” Geralt grunted, suddenly unsure if Jaskier wanted to be quiet.

“Why, you like my rambling?” Jaskier grinned and Geralt just hummed. He did, in a way that Geralt had never thought he would.

“I like the quiet.” Geralt grunted and it was Jaskier’s turn to hum. “Good time to think.”

“That it is.” Jaskier agreed.

“What do you think about?” Geralt suddenly asked, surprising himself as much as Jaskier given the strange look Jaksier gave him.

“Music usually.” Jaskier responded. “Lyrics that I could use, melodies. Sometimes poetry.” Jaskier was silent for a moment but Geralt didn’t interrupt, sensing Jaskier wanted to add something more and not wanting to interrupt him. “And I guess, more recently, the choices I made.” Jaskier shrugged, eyes turned towards the ocean now but Geralt could see the shine of unshed tears in his eyes. “that’s probably why I don’t like the quiet to much anymore.” Jaksier laughed, the harsh laugh that had no humour in it what so ever. Geralt hated that laugh. “But everything works out in the end I suppose.”

“It does?” Geralt questioned and this time jaskier laughed properly, hand come to rest on Geralt’s shoulder. The feeling of Jaskier’s warm hand on Geralt’s shoulder made the pirate Captain hum quietly. It felt right there, somehow.

“Yeah, destiny and all that.” Jaskier laughed again. “I mean if I hadn’t made the choices I did I wouldn’t be here on the Witcher would I.” And Geralt hummed in agreement. The thought of not having Jaskier hear with them now felt like a stab through the heart but then, if that was the price to pay to have stopped Jaskier turning to prostitution to survive then Geralt would have paid it willingly. “So,” Jaskier continued after a few more minutes of silence. The sun was nearly set now, the world turning a dim grey colour. They’d have to light the lanterns soon, Geralt thought as Jaskier continued. “What do you think about?”

Geralt grunted, shrugging his shoulders and Jaskier laughed, squeezing Geralt’s shoulder. “I gave you my answer, now you have to give me yours.” And Geralt supposed that was only fair.

Except what Geralt thought about wasn’t for pleasant discussions, much less with Jaskier who still looked so innocent even after everything he’d been through. A part of Geralt didn’t want to burden Jaskier with his thoughts. “I think about my choices to.” Geralt said, waiting for Jaskier to ask what choices Geralt had made but much to Geralt’s surprise Jaskier didn’t push further.

The blue eyed Witchers lark just grinned, hand moving from Geralt’s shoulder to settle on the rail. Geralt moved his hand a little closer so their hands were touching and Jaskier hummed. “I suppose we’ve all made choices we regret.” Jaskier spoke, voice quiet in the dimmed light. “But we must have made some right choices along the way to end up here.” And Geralt found himself grunting in agreement.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mention of violence and near death experience in this chapter.

Geralt watched the merchant through the lease of the spyglass pressed against his eye. The crew were in position on the deck and Geralt didn’t need to look down to see the anticipation on his crews face. Eskel had gotten them ready the moment the ship came into sight and the ship was now moving along at a steady speed towards the merchant vessel. The wind was on their side so they were quickly catching up to the heavy merchant vessel and Geralt estimated another 15 minutes and they would be within firing range.

Glancing down at the decks, Geralt hummed with approval at what he saw. A sea of black clothed Witchers working efficiently to keep the ship moving and getting ready for the taking of the merchant ship. Amongst the sea of black, Geralt’s eyes were inevitably drawn to Jaskier. The bright coloured man was standing at one of the cannon’s with Coen, face set in a determined line. Geralt grunted at the sight, Coen would keep a close eye on Geralt. Not that Geralt expected there to be a fight but still, always good to be prepared.

“We’re getting to firing range.” Eskel noted, from where he was standing at the ships wheel. Geralt hummed. 

“Fire a warning shot.” Most of the time all they needed were a few warning shots to get the merchant vessels to surrender. After all, they weren’t designed for fighting and the men on board were a lot more concerned about their own lives than giving over their cargo to the Witchers.

Eskel shouted the order and within seconds a warning shot hit the side of the merchant vessel. Geralt grunted in approval, the Witchers all worked in tandem during times like these. Like they were one person and that always helped in a fight.

The merchant vessel tried to speed up but with the wind buffeting the Witcher forwards, the heavy merchant vessel had no chance of outrunning them. “Fire another.” Geralt grunted, watching as a second cannonball was shot. This was hit the hull of the ship, sending splintered of wood flying in all directions. Geralt distantly noted that the cannon that fired that shots was Jaksier’s and Coen’s. Jaskier’s face was a little pale but he Geralt could still see the determined glint in those blue eyes. Good, Geralt thought. As much as he didn’t want Jaskier near a fight at least he was holding firm. The Witchers couldn’t afford for anyone to lose their heads in situations like these, it got people killed.

Slowly, the merchant ship turned, anchor dropping to come to a standstill. Good, Geralt thought again. The Captain obviously realised he couldn’t outrun the Witcher. Either that or the crew had mutinied, scared shitless of the oncoming pirate vessel and deciding to surrender quietly despite their Captains orders. That had happened on more than one occasion and Geralt was always reminded at those times how thankful he was for the hardy men that were his Witchers. None of them would back down from any sort of fight, even a fight that was drastically stacked against them. After all, Lambert always said “They’re the best fucking fights.”

As the merchant ship came to a still, Geralt scanned the railings of the other ship and felt his heart plummet. Usually the crew would be standing at the railing, holding their hands out in surrender. Usually their would be shouts to say to hold fire, that they were coming quietly. But the railing was empty and as the merchant ship was a good 2 storey’s higher than the Witcher Geralt couldn’t see if the crew were standing on the deck. Which meant...shit.

“Incoming!” Geralt shouted just in time, throwing himself to the ground as a loud bang echoed from the other ship, smashing into the Witcher’s hull.

..........

Geralt swore as he came to, feeling blood trickle down his forehead as he staggered to his feet. The blast had knocked his feet from under him and making him fall and hit his head on the railing. Cursing himself, Geralt listening to the loud bangs of cannon fire that rang out across the day. “Captain?” Eskel asked from where he had been shouting orders from the upper deck. Geralt grunted, moving past Eskel to see the damage that had been caused.

Another shot made the ship shake and Geralt cursed. Yennefer’s informant had been wrong. There had been fire power. Glancing at the opposite ships railing Geralt snarled, seeing dark shapes moving around, shouting orders.

A bang from their own cannons and a loud crash of splintering wood came from the other ship. “Aim for their masts!” Geralt shouted at the Witchers on the decks. They weren’t in range to be boarded, yet, but Geralt knew it wouldn’t take long.

A bang of cannon fire and one of their cannonballs hit the upper deck of the merchant ship. Geralt grunted. ‘The plan?” Eskel asked, voice as calm as it always was even in the face of a battle. It was why Geralt had chosen Eskel as his first mate, the man was nearly unflappable.

Geralt was silent for a moment, considering. Another loud bang of cannon fire had the ship rocking. “We need to get closer.” Geralt grunted. “Stop them from being able to cause any more damage.”

“That’ll let them board us.” Eskel pointed and Geralt shrugged. Anyone foolish enough to board the Witcher was begging for their lives to be ended. Eskel sighed, the same exasperated tone he used when dealing with Lambert’s shit but Geralt could see the approval in Eskel’s scarred face. If Eskel really had a problem the first mate would have no problem in voicing it and Geralt knew from past experience to listen to Eskel’s judgement. If Eskel wasn’t complaining that only meant Geralt’s plan was a good one. Or they didn’t have any other choice.

The orders were yelled and Geralt watched as Aidan, Axel and Jad launched themselves at the rigging. Nicknamed cat’s for a reason, the 3 of them were quicker and more efficient than anyone else Geralt had ever seen in scaling the rigging and getting the sails stowed away in record time. None of them even flinching as the cannon fire still raged around them.

Geralt took a hand on the ships wheel, glaring at the merchant vessel in front of them. The Witcher was still aiming right towards the vessel and at this rate they’d hit the other ships hull in a matter of minute. Ignoring the shouts from around him, Geralt let himself focus on his ship, waiting for the best time to bring the ship around to avoid a direct collision. The closer they got the less cannon fire hit them, the balls splashing usually in the ocean around them. Unfortunately that meant their own cannons were useless now but that didn’t really matter. The Witchers had always managed better in hand to hand combat anyway.

Just before the front of the Witcher scraped the merchant vessels ship Geralt shouted “Brace!” And swung the wheel to starboard. The whole ship tilted wildly, wood scraping against the other ships hull as the Witcher turned so it was lying sideways on against the other ship.

..........

Jaskier blinked back the sweat that had dropped into his eyes as he passed another cannonball to Coen. “Not much use firing now.” Coen noted as his current shot went wild, only scraping the side of the merchant ship. 

“No?” Jaskier breathed. His heart was beating fast enough against his chest that he thought it was trying to burst out but there was a manic smile on his lips as the Adrenalin ran through him. 

But Coen’s next words were drowned out by Geralt’s loud shout from the upper deck. “Brace!” Jaskier barely had chance to grab onto the rail before the ship was spinning on it’s side and smashing into the opposing ships side. Jaskier felt light headed at the suddenness of the manoeuvre but he didn’t have chance to get his bearings as the Witchers were now moving as one, throwing rope with grappling hooks attached at the end onto the opposing ship.

Jaskier watched with awe on his face as Lambert, Letho and Aukes led a group of 15 Witchers up the ropes and onto the other ship. His heart lurched at the way the ropes swung above the open ocean, pure amazement in his eyes at the way the Witchers didn’t even flinch or slow in their climbing.

“Come on.” Coen clapped a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder, pulling him out of his daze. “Not over yet. Better draw your weapon.” Jaskier did so, hand shaking as he clutched the dagger in his hands. Coen frowned for a moment, placing a re-assuring hand on Jaskier’s shoulders. “They’ll be boarding us soon. Don’t panic and stay close to me.” And then Coen threw a wide grin at Jaskier that made Jaskier choke on a laugh. “And don’t stick any of us with that thing.”

............

Geralt had his sword out and swinging it in a death swing before his opponent had even staggered to his feet. About 20 men had launched themselves from the windows on the merchant vessel onto the Witcher. Geralt had to give these men his grudging respect as he neatly pulled his sword from his opponents neck, blood dripping onto the decks. Not many people would be brave enough to make that jump, let alone not a pirate ship where the whole crew were waiting to slaughter them.

Glancing at the dead mans clothes Geralt noted the lack of a coat of arms on them. These weren’t soldiers. Probably mercenaries that the merchant vessel had hired to get them across the pirate infested waters safely. Geralt grunted as another man suddenly appeared in front of him, having jumped from the other ship onto the Witchers rigging and onto the upper deck in front of Geralt. Geralt parried the blow with a half pirouette, feinting with his left hand before driving his sword up to the mans right. The man countered the move easily and Geralt growled. The problems with mercenaries compared to soldiers where that they were of a similar caliber to the Witchers. By no means better, fuck no one was better than the Witchers, but a fucking nightmare to deal with.

As Geralt plunged his sword forwards, knocking his opponents hand and causing the man to howl in pain blood spurting onto the ground, another 3 mercenaries suddenly appeared in front of him. Fuck, Geralt thought as he quickly parried the blows. The fight just got a little bit harder.

.............

Jaskier had gotten separated from Coen in the chaos. His hands clutched the dagger painfully as Jaskier ducked past the fighting bodies. The men that had boarded the Witcher were definitely losing, the Witchers fierceness leaving no doubt over who had the upper hand here. jaskier risked a quick glance at the other ship and saw a body tumble off the decking and into the open ocean. Jaskier gulped.

A shout from behind had Jaskier ducking instinctively, just in time to avoid a sword thrust that whistled above his head. Without thinking Jaskier brought his dagger down, slashing it across the man whose sword had nearly decapitated him legs. The man howled, staggering and then dropping dead, a Witchers sword being pulled from his chest before he even hit the ground. 

“You good lark?” Eskel grinned, amber eyes bright and a wicked smile on his face. Any other person would have been terrified by the sight of the scarred mans face filled with battle lust but Jaskier only felt released to see someone he knew.

“Yeah.” Jaskier smiled back and Eskel grunted.

“Stay low and out of the way. This’ll be over soon.” And Jaskier barely nodded before Eskel had disappeared again, once more into the fray with his sword held high.

Jaskier was about to do exactly that when he glanced upwards and saw Geralt on the upper deck. His heart jumped to his throat in fear as he watched the Witchers captain fighting 3 burly looking men. Geralt was holding his own, winning even. A whirl of movement that Jaskier could barely keep track of as he swatted his opponents swords away. But that wasn’t what had fear lacing through Jaskier.

A forth man was sneaking up on the distracted pirate Captain. His sword was raised, glare in his eyes as he crept around the fighting, sword raised to attack Geralt from behind. Without his even having thought about it, Jaskier was running and dodging past the fighting around him, launching himself onto the upper deck where Geralt was fighting.

With a loud shout, Jaskier jumped onto the upper deck, dagger held high as he ran at the man who had intended to attack Geralt’s blind side. The man twirled around in shock, barely having time to lift his sword as Jaskier’s tackled him to ground. Jaskier brought his dagger down onto the man below him, slashing at the mans chest.

Warm blood spurted from the man’s chest and Jaskier might have been shocked at his own actions if the man hadn’t then bellowed, rolling his body to push Jaskier off. Jaskier shouted, dagger dropping from his hands as the man staggered to his feet, sword in hand. Jaksier barely had chance to roll away from the mans wild slash of the sword, fear clenching at his heart as the man followed him.

Staggering to his feet, Jaskier jumped backwards as the man slashed his sword at Jaskier’s front. The sword tore at the fabric of Jaskier’s shirt. The man growled, launching himself once more at Jaskier who quickly jumped to the side to avoid the wild thrust of the mans sword.

“Little bitch.” The man growled, once more launching himself at Jaskier. Jaskier jumped backwards, back hitting the railing as the man shouted. Having missed Jaskier, the man ran straight into the railing, body tipping dangerously forwards as the sword dropped from his hands. Without thinking about the consequences, Jaskier pushed the mans back, knocking the man off balance and tipping him over the edge of the ship.

Except in doing so, Jaskier had gotten in range of the mans falling hands and one of those hands had wrapped tightly in Jaskier’s shirt. Jaskier shouted in panic as he felt his body being pulled forwards and following the falling man’s body into the open ocean.

Jaskier’s body impacting into the sea both dislodged the man’s grip on Jaksier and knocked all the breath from Jaskier’s lungs. Kicking upwards as hard as his legs would let him, Jaskier forced his head to breach the water and gulped in a panicky breath. The taste of salt filled his mouth as Jaskier coughed and spluttered, desperately wading his hands in the water to keep afloat.

He didn’t notice the flying piece of wood until he felt it impact with his head and knock him unconscious.

.......

“No!” Geralt yelled as he watched in horror as Jaskier was dragged over the edge of the Witcher. He had just that moment dispatched the 3mercenaries that had been circling him, only being aware of the fourth man at the same second that Jaskier had tackled the man to the ground. His focus distracted by Jaskier’s tackling of the man that had been coming up behind Geralt unawares, one of the mercenaries got a lucky cut in at Geralt’s arm.

Geralt had swung his sword with more force than he ever had as he desperately tried to end this fight sooner rather than later, desperate to go to Jaskier’s aide. He’d only seen the forth man out of the corner of his eye but he was twice the size of Jaskier, bigger than Geralt even. Fuck, Jaskier didn’t stand a chance.

Except when Geralt had finally been free to turn to Jaskier’s aide he had seen Jaksier pushing his opponent over the edge of the ship. To late Geralt saw the man’s hand close around Jaskier’s shirt and by the time he had launched himself at the railing Jaskier was already falling. 2 seconds earlier and Geralt would have caught Jaskier’s falling hand as the younger man fell over the side. Instead he was left to watch in desperation as Jaskier dropped into the ocean with a loud splash.

“What?” Eskel shouted as Geralt dropped his sword on the ground and flung his coat off him. “Geralt!” Eskel’s words followed the pirate Captain as he launched himself over the side after Jaskier.

The water was cold as Geralt hit it, taking a deep breath before the impact as his whole body was submerged in the dark blue depths. Kicking his legs, Geralt broke the surface, eyes frantically searching for where Jaskier had landed. He had thought he’d seen Jaskier’s head before jumping but now it was nowhere in sight. Kicking his legs in the direction of where Jaksier had been, Geralt dove under the water. Blinking past the salt of the ocean, Geralt swam in a circle as he frantically searched for any signs of Jaskier.

Geralt’s were just starting to burn, demanding he go up for air when he saw it. The sight of Jaskier’s pale calloused hand a few metres below him. Ignoring the churning in his own lungs, Geralt kicked his legs forcing himself to go deeper towards Jaskier. Jaskier’s brown hair was floating like a halo around his head, body limp and pale as Geralt finally reached him. With a grunt of effort, Geralt wrapped an arm around Jaskier’s limp waist and kicked towards the surface.

Head breaking the surface, Geralt gasped for air as he kicked, free hand wading as he tried to keep them afloat. Jaskier’s body was limp and slippery in Geralt’s grasp and Geralt felt fear run through him as he saw Jaskier’s head keep dipping back under the waves.

“Over here!” Eskel’s voice shouted from the Witcher and Geralt saw with relief a rope being thrown in their direction. Geralt kicked towards it, wrapping his free hand in the rope as he tightened his grip around Jaskier. Geralt grunted past the pain as the rope was used to haunt he two of them up, Jaskier’s body a limp weight in Geralt’s arms.

Hands reached over the railing, helping Geralt haul himself and Jaskier back onto the deck. Not paying attention to the worried eyes around him, Geralt rolled Jaskier onto his back frantically trying to hear breathing, see the rise and fall of his chest. Anything. But Jaksier just lay there limp and lifeless. His lips were tinged blue, face pale.

“Fuck.” Geralt growled, pressing his hands onto Jaskier’s chest and pushing as hard as he could against Jaskier’s unseating heart. He had to get it going. He couldn’t let Jaskier die.

The silence surrounding Geralt as he frantically tried to force Jaskier’s heart to start beating was deafening. Witchers stood surrounding them, their amber eyes fixed on Jaksier’s still form in silent horror and pain. Geralt growled in anger as he continued to press against Jaskier’s chest, willing him to start breathing. To fucking not be dead, please. 

And then the silence was broken by the sweetest sound Geralt had ever heard. Jaskier spluttered, from beneath him, sea water forcing itself from his mouth. Geralt quickly stopped his compressions, turning Jaskier’s body to the side and rubbing a gentle circle on the other mans back as Jaskier violently coughed up the sea water he had swallowed.

As the coughing lessened, Geralt felt the adrenalin that had run through him vanish in an instant. His hands shook a little as he watched Jaskier’s dazed blue eyes look up at Geralt a small smile on his lips. “Well.” Jaskier paused, coughing violently before continued with a breathless huff, “That was interesting.”

The words were followed by a hesitant laugh from the Witchers surrounding them. A towel was dropped around Jaskier’s shoulders and Jaskier smiled in thanks, hands shaking as he wrapped the towel around his soaked clothes. Another towel was dropped onto Geralt’s shoulders but he ignored it, just staring at Jaskier incredulously.

“Fucking interesting.” Geralt snarled, eyes staring at Jaskier in complete horror. “Fucking interesting, you bloody idiot you almost drowned.” Jaskier had moved so he was sitting on the deck, eyes no looking at Geralt in confusion which only made the anger in Geralt’s blood boil even further. Staggering to his feet, Geralt glared down at Jaskier, anger overtaking every part of him. “You almost got yourself killed you fucking idiot.”

“I...I was only trying to help.” Jaskier’s voice was breathless but there was a hint of betrayal in Jaskier’s eyes as he stared up at Geralt. The innocent look of betrayal in Jaskier’s eyes sent Geralt over the edge.

“You aren’t a fucking Witcher.” Geralt growled, not caring about the way Jaskier flinched. “You could have gotten us both killed with your stupid bloody actions.”

“I...” A silent tear tracked down Jaskier’s face but Geralt didn’t care. He didn’t fucking care, he was to angry. 

“No. You’re a fucking liability and you shouldn’t be here.” And before anyone could say anything else, the pirate captain stormed off, leaving Jaksier sitting on the deck soaked to the skin and with a heart broken look on his face.


	5. Chapter 5

“You’re a fucking idiot.” Eskel commented. Geralt just growled, not wanting to have this discussion as he walked the gangplank which had been attached to the other ship. The fight was over and the merchants vessel had surrendered. At least something went right today, Geralt thought angrily as he glared at the older planks beneath his feet.

All he could think about was the Jaskier. Jaskier lying unmoving, lifeless on the deck. The pain and hurt in Jaskier’s bright blue eyes. Fuck. Geralt should never have said those words. Should never have let his anger reign his words. He hadn’t even been fucking angry with Jaskier, he’d been angry at himself. Angry that he hadn’t been able to stop Jaskier from going overboard. And now he was fucking angry because he’d yelled at Jaskier when the man hadn’t done anything to deserve it. He’d saved Geralt’s life and here Geralt was being an ungrateful fucking bastard.

Letho was lounging at the top of the railing, giving them a self satisfied smirk as they passed. The large Witcher was covered in blood but judging by the lack of bandages, Geralt knew none of that blood was actually his own. “Where the hell have you been?” Lambert grinned from where he had his sword slung over his shoulder. The Captain and ships crew were lined up on the deck, wrists bound by rope. “Missed one hell of a fucking party.”

Geralt just growled in answer, glaring down at the men in front of him. Here were men who deserved his anger. These were the men who had thought they could attack the Witcher. Who thought they could set people to attack the Witchers without retribution. The people who had caused Jaskier to almost die.

“And why do you look like you took a swim in the ocean to get here?” Lambert asked. His tone was uninterested but his eyes looked at Geralt in concern.

“Jaskier fell over in saving Geralt.” Eskel stated, sending Geralt a pointed look which Geralt promptly ignored. He knew he was in the fucking wrong, he didn’t need his fucking first mate reminding him of that.

“Fuck.” Lambert whistled. “Our lark ok?” And there was the our again. Jaskier had been onboard the Witcher for a month and he was already considered the Witchers lark. And here Geralt was fucking telling him he didn’t belong.

“Few bruised ribs and a nasty hit on the head but yeah.” Eskel stated and fuck Geralt hadn’t even waited long enough to check if Jaskier was ok. Of course he wasn’t fucking ok but still, Geralt should have asked. Should have fucking checked before yelling at him like that.

“What we gonna do with these bastards then?” Lambert asked, anger in his tone. Aukes growled, shoving his sword in the back of the Captain’s neck.

“No one touches our fucking lark.” Aukes growled and there was a shout of agreement for the assembled Witchers on the deck. Geralt growled, glaring down at the ships Captain.

“We only hired the mercenaries to get us to port safely.” The Captain stuttered. “We didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Seems to me if you didn’t want any trouble you wouldn’t have started a fight you couldn’t win.” Letho pointed out from where he was leaning against the railing behind Geralt.

“We...” The Captain started but Geralt shut him up with a growl and glare. He didn’t want excuses. Didn’t fucking care when Jaskier had been the one to get hurt.

“Get the cargo back to the Witcher.” Geralt growled. The Witchers grunted, all glaring daggers at the men knelt in front of their Captain as they moved below deck. 

“And these fuckers?” Lambert growled, kicking the Captain’s back leisurely and making the man squeak. It wasn’t a hard kick, just a warning but Geralt felt a certain amount of vindicated pleasure at the fear in the mans eyes.

“Please, we have families.” A crew member shouted. 

“This wasn’t our idea. I was the Captain’s, he hired them.” Another added.

“Mutiny.” The Captain yelled but quickly fell silent with only a whimper of fear when Lambert pressed his sword to the back of the mans neck.

“Geralt?” Eskel grunted and Geralt hummed.

“Tie them to the masts. They’ll either float into a port or get stranded on some rocks.” Geralt was being lenient but he had to keep reminding himself that these men weren’t the ones that had attacked the Witcher. Weren’t the man that had pulled Jaskier into the ocean. No, those men were long dead.

“You can’t!” The Captain yelled and Geralt growled, patience long since worn thin.

“And gag anyone who fucking complains.” Lambert smirked in pleasure, roughly pulling the Captain to his feet.

Geralt didn’t bother looking behind him as he stalked back to the gangplank. Eskel would sort out the cargo’s transfer to the Witcher. Right now Geralt needed a drink. A strong one.

.......

“You ok?” Aidan asked as Coen finished wrapping the bandages around Jaskier’s bared torso. Jaskier just hummed, eyes still fixed to the floor in front of him. He’d changed out of the wet clothing and when Coen stepped back he pulled his shirt on with a wince. Bruised ribs, caused by Geralt pressing down on them in trying to get his heart to start again. Eskel had said he was lucky the Captain hadn’t broken any. That coupled with the bang to his head that had left him with a banging headache, Jaskier was a little worse for wear.

“He’s turning into Geralt on us.” Axel noted from behind Aidan. Aidan snorted at that but Coen only looked at Jaskier with concern.

“Don’t take what the Captain said to heart.” Coen said quietly.

“Yeah, mans a fucking arsehole when he’s pissed.” Aidan added. “An it doesn’t mater what Geralt thinks, your still the Witchers lark to the crew.” 

“Geralt’s right though.” Jaskier murmured, looking at the planks. He had no idea what he’d been thinking. He wasn’t a Witcher. He wasn’t a pirate. He was just some pathetic whore. Useless. “I am a liability.”

“No you’re not.” Coen sat on the bench Jaskier was sitting at. “You saved the Captain’s life.”

“He would have been fine without me.” Jaskier murmured. He realised now how foolish his actions had been. Of course Geralt hadn’t needed his help, Geralt was a Witcher. The man was unstoppable, he hadn’t needed Jaskier to come in a nearly get himself killed trying to help him.

“Probably.” Axel stated, shrugging at the glare Aidan sent him. What, Geralt’s the best of us and he’d probably have been alright. Only probably though.” 

“Probably?” Jaskier asked, voice hesitant as Axel just shrugged.

“Guy was sneaking up on Geralt’s blindside and he was already fighting 3 men. 4 on 1’s a lot even for Geralt, especially when you don’t know one’s behind you.” Axel stated. “Way the crew see it you saved Geralt’s life.”

“Yeah, so just ignore Geralt.” Coen said, smiling as Jaskier lifted his head from the gaze to look at the men in front of him.

“We all do.” Aidan grinned and Jaskier laughed a little hesitantly as Axel and Coen snorted their own laughter.

............

As the Witcher pulled away from the merchant vessel, Geralt felt some of the anger start to ease from him. The open water had always done a lot to calm his anger, the wind in his face and the sigh of only open ocean for miles all around making Geralt’s heart ease. He was standing at the ships wheel, gaze fixed ahead. The merchants cargo was stored in the Witcher’s lower decks, Lambert and Eskel going through the cargo to see exactly what they had gained from this adventure. Or rather misadventure.

Geralt growled, anger clenching at him again as he glared at the horizon. He wanted to check on Jaskier, wanted to see if he was alright but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. After all, what right did Geralt have to seek Jaskier out after what he had said. None, that’s what what. But fuck, Geralt needed to see with his own eyes that Jaskier was fine.

Jaskier wasn’t on deck, hadn’t been on deck since they’d set sail away from the merchant vessel over 3 hours ago. All the Witchers that had passed the upper deck had looked at their Captain, glares in their eyes and Geralt growled in anger. He had wanted one of them to come up here, to at least tell their Captain how Jaskier was. But instead they had all given him a wide birth. Not that Geralt didn’t deserve it but fuck, he needed to know.

Eskel was the only one who had given any information on Jaskier’s condition and that had been to fucking Lambert, not Geralt. The first mate had also, very unhelpfully, told Geralt if he wanted to know how Jaskier was he should go and check himself. The fact Geralt should also go and apologise to Jaskier for insinuating Jaskier wasn’t part one fo the Witchers was left unsaid.

Growling angrily, Geralt shouted fro Lambert to come up to the upper deck. The man walked over, frown fixed on his face as he leant against the rail. “Take the wheel.”

“Why?” Lambert asked, voice flat and Geralt growled angrily.

“Just take the fucking wheel.” Geralt had had enough of his crews insolence. He knew he’d fucked up, knew he’d hurt Jaskier with his words but that didn’t give his crew the right to ignore him. Didn’t give Lambert the right to outright refuse a fucking order.

“No.” Lambert growled, “not until you tell me fucking why.”

Geralt growled, anger boiling in him but he resisted the urge to punch Lambert. Just. “Because I want to check if Jaskier is ok.” Geralt growled but Lambert didn’t move, still fixing Geralt with an unimpressed glare.

“Then no.” Geralt growled, shoving away front he wheel, fists clenched at his side.

“Why the fuck not?” Geralt raged and Lambert just shrugged.

“You need to apologise to our lark. If you do that then I’ll take the fucking wheel.” Lambert was silent for a moment, considering for a moment before a shit-eating grin appeared on his face. “And then maybe the crew’ll stop looking at you like they’re planning fucking mutiny.” Geralt growled angrily but Lambert didn’t move. “You fucked up Geralt.” Lambert’s voice had suddenly turned serious. “Jaskier didn’t deserve what you said and you need to fucking apologise.”

“I know.” Geralt growled. Of course he bloody knew that. Lambert grunted, moving to take the wheel in hand as he looked at Geralt expectantly.

“Go on then, go and fucking apologise.” And once again Geralt wondered why the fuck the Witcher had a Captain when none of the crew ever listened to him.

.......

Jaskier was sitting at a table, peeling potatoes for Gerd. He’d tried to go up on deck and help with the sailing but Aidan and Coen had growled at him, both putting hands on his shoulder and forcing him back to seating. Axel had then disappeared for a moment, returning with Gerd and loudly asking the surly cook to “Keep our lark occupied.”

As Jaskier slammed the potato down on the table he’d been sat at for the last few hours, he glared at Gerd who just grunted in response. The cook was leaning against a wall, feet sitting on the table and Jaskier got the distinct impression Gerd had agreed to Axel’s demand just so he could sit and do nothing.

In fairness, Jaskier knew he wouldn’t be much help on deck. His bruised ribs ached atrociously and even concentrating on not cutting his fingers with the knife was giving him a blinding headache. But Jaskier didn’t want to just sit around and do nothing, Geralt’s words still ringing around his head. It didn’t matter that the Witchers thought of him as one of them, if her Captain didn’t then did Jaskier really have a place here. 

Jaskier resolved he would be better, would make Geralt see his worth. The idea of being dropped off in port, taken back to Tortuga had Jaskier shivering in fear. He couldn’t go back to that life. Not now he had had a taste of freedom, of true adventure. The thought of being forced back into his life as a prostitution made Jaskier sick to his stomach. Vaguely he thought if the worst happened and Geralt forced him off the Witcher, Jaskier may end up finding a ship back to Port Royale. He couldn’t go back to selling his own body for money. He wouldn’t.

The sounds of footsteps coming down to the lower decks drew Jaskier’s attention and he felt his heart freeze for a moment. Geralt stood at the bottom of the steps, figure outlined in the light coming down from the open hatch. His face was fixed in a glower and his amber eyes were looking straight at Jaskier

“Gerd, stop slacking. I need to talk to our lark.” And that had Jaskier’s heart racing again. Geralt called him our lark, did that mean the pirate Captain still considered him apart of their crew?

Geralt grunted, taking a seat at the table and taking the knife from Jaskier’s hands. “You coming.” Geralt grunted and Jaskier jumped to his feet, wincing a little as the action aggravated his bruised ribs, before following Geralt up to the deck.

“Are you ok?” Geralt grunted as he came to a stop at the railing. Jaskier blinked owlishly at the Captain, having not expected the question. In truth, Jaskier didn’t really know how to answer that. The change from the dim light of below deck to the bright sun had aggravated his headache and the climb up the stairs and walk towards the railing had left Jaskier a little breathless. His ribs ached and his throat was raw from the amount of sea water he’d drank and subsequently vomited back out.

“I’m fine.” Jaskier settled on. He didn’t want to admit weakness to this man and in the grant scheme of things he’d had worse. It wasn’t like his throat hadn’t been raw before, albeit from altogether different activities but still. And yes Jaskier had never actually died before...and shit. He’d almost died. “Fuck.” Jaskier swore, running a hand through his hair as guilt welled up in him. “I never got a chance to thank you. You saved me.”

“Just returning the favour.” Geralt grunted and...that was unexpected. The silence that followed those words was awkward, nothing like the previous silences they had shared. Jaskier tapped his fingers against the railing as nerves overran him. “I’m sorry.” Geralt grunted, voice quiet as he glared out at the sea. “You didn’t deserve my anger.”

“No, it’s fine.” Jaskier immediately said. “I mean, I know I’m not much of a fighter and I’m not really a Witcher.”

“You are.” Geralt grunted, still glaring at the ocean and refusing to look at Jaskier. “A Witcher I mean. if you want to be. Fuck.” Geralt swore this time, turning to fix Jaskier with those bright amber eyes. 

“The crew keep calling me the Witchers lark, so I guess I’m like a Witcher.” Jaskier smiled hesitantly, still not sure exactly what Geralt wanted from this conversation.

“You’re a Witcher.” Geralt grunted. “Crew wouldn’t call you that if they didn’t think you were.” And Jaskier let out a breathy oh at that. “And you’re not a liability.” Geralt added. The glare was on his face still but Jaskier got the distinct feeling the glare wasn’t actually meant for him,r at her Geralt himself. ‘You saved my life.”

“You’d have managed without me.” Jaskier laughed but Geralt just grunted.

“I didn’t see him until you tackled him.” Geralt growled, turning back to the open sea. “He’d have gutted me before I had a chance to act. So thank you.”

“Suppose we’re even now.” Jaskier chuckled, trying to lighten the mood a little but Geralt just hummed, glare turning back to the ocean. “And you don’t have to apologise. I’ll admit, I didn’t really think it through.”

“Sometimes it’s better to act than think.” Geralt grunted and Jaskier chuckled again.

“Sounds like something Lambert would say.” Geralt hummed, a small smile appearing on his lips and Jaskier felt the last threads of tension fade away at that.

“Your share.” Geralt suddenly said and Jaskier looked at Geralt in confusion. “Of the merchants cargo. Your share.”

“Oh, I...I forgot about that.” And Jaskier had. He hadn’t come to the Witcher for money, if he’d just wanted money then taking at the Lodge would have been a safer option. Hell, if he was only interested in money he would never boarded that ship in London. No, he’d come to the Witcher for adventure.

Geralt hummed. “What do you want?”

“I...nothing.” Jaskier replied, honestly. Geralt turned his amber eyes to look at Jaskier, a frown appearing on his face. Jaskier shivered a little at the intensity of that gaze.

“You don’t?” Geralt asked and Jaskier shook his head honestly.

“I came here for adventures, not for money.” And Geralt hummed, a strange frown appearing on his face as he turned back to looking at the sea.

......

They dropped anchor the next afternoon outside the small island. it didn’t have a name, was to small to have one but name or no name it didn’t much matter to Geralt. The landing party were standing on the deck, waiting for their Captain already. Lambert, Letho and Aukes and Jaskier. Jaskier looked a little nervous as he stood next to the crew, a confused look on his face as he watched Geralt walk towards them. He was wearing a dark green shirt over his brown breeches today. The blue brought out flecks of green Geralt hadn’t even noticed before in those bright blue eyes.

Geralt said nothing as they climbed over the side down to the waiting rowing boat. As soon as Jaskier, the last to board, was seated Letho and Aukes took the oars and rowed them in the direction of land. Lambert and Aidan had gone ahead with the cargo they weren’t keeping on the Witcher already.

Jaskier was pressed next to Geralt, eyes fixed on the waves in front of him and hands clasped in front of him. Geralt hadn’t told Jaskier why he wanted Jaskier with them on this trip but he was starting to wish he had, the nerves rolling off Jaskier making Geralt feel guilty. But no, he wanted Jaskier to see this for himself.

As the rowing boat hit the sandy bottom, they all jumped from the boat, grabbing onto the side and pushing the boat onto land. “You don’t have.” Geralt grunted as the sea splashed at his knees. 

“I’ll be fine.” Jaskier murmured and Geralt grunted. He had been surprised to find out how stubborn Jaskier actually was. Even with bruised ribs which Geralt knew pained him from the way Jaskier winced when he thought no one was looking, the man still insisted on pulling his weight. It had both impressed and worried Geralt. 

When they got to shore, Geralt watched Jaskier with concern in his eyes as Jaskier rubbed at the bruised ribs. Guilt once more flashed across him. Geralt knew if he hadn’t bruised Jaskier’s ribs like that then the chances were Jaskier would be dead right now, but the guilt of seeing Jaskier in pain because of him still threatened to overwhelm him.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Geralt walked ahead of the crew. “Took you long enough.” lambert commented and Geralt just growled. “Aidan took the last of the boxes down.” Lambert answered to Geralt’s silence question of where the other Witcher was. Geralt growled his Approval as he led the way down the beach and to the small settlement that lived here.

As they entered the small settlement, Geralt glanced back to find Jaskier had slowed his pace. The young man’s as looking around at the home made huts in wonder. Geralt hummed. It was quite a sight. The whole of the small village had been built by the inhabitants of the small island. Maybe about 100 people lived here, scattered all over the small island. 

“Captain Geralt!” The loud shout of excitement came from a bundle of blonde hair who was running at him at high speed. Geralt laughed loudly, dropping to one knee as he let Ciri fling her arms around him.

“You’ve grown.” Geralt commented and the girl laughed in answer, stepping back and putting her hands on her hips. She was only 6 years old but she looked so much like Pavetta it made Geralt’s heart ache.

“That’s because you haven’t visited in months.” Ciri complained and Geralt couldn’t help but smile in embarrassment as answer. “Who’s that?” Ciri whispered into his ear, nodding her head at Jaskier.

Jaskier himself was looking at the exchange in confusion and when Ciri’s attention went to him he smiled hesitantly. “That is Jaskier, go and say hi.” Geralt said and Ciri nodded.

She stalked up to Jaskier in a perfect imitation fo Calanthe Geralt couldn’t help but smile a little. “I’m Ciri.” She announced. Jaskier, for his part didn’t hesitate. He grinned at her, offering a large bow in reply.

“Then it is a plaque to meet you Ciri. My name’s Jaskier.” Ciri nodded her head in answer, looking at Jaskier critically.

“You don’t look much like a Witcher.” Ciri noted and the smile faltered a little on Jaskier’s face but stayed in place as he answered.

“To be honest, black had never been my colour.” And Ciri giggled in answer, grabbing Jaskier’s hand in hers.

“Come on, Grandmother wants to see you.” Jaskier gave geralt a helpless look as he was pulled down the path by Ciri’s hold on his hands.

“Force of Ciri, you can’t fight it.” Lambert yelled after their lark and Geralt couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Ciri was definitely a force all her own.

They followed Ciri and Jaskier down the beach to where Calanthe and her husband Eist were already sorting through the cargo the Witchers had delivered. Aidan was there, hauling cargo’s as directed by Eist. The other Witchers quickly jumped in to help and Calanthe nodded her approval.

Geralt had known Calanthe from before he had been a pirate and Geralt knew from experience she wasn’t a woman to be crossed. Most military men sneered at the idea of having women in their army but Geralt had seen Calanthe walk a ship and battle with a sword in her hand without breaking a sweat. She was a dangerous woman and Geralt was infinitely glad she was on his side.

“Geralt, good to see you.” Calanthe greeted, taking Geralt’s hand in a firm grip. “And you’ve brought a new crew member.” She noted, eyes turning to where Jaskier was still standing with Ciri’s hand wrapped in his. She considered them for a moment before turning to her Granddaughter. Geralt would always be amazed at how Ciri (and Pavetta before her) had melted the cold hard exterior of Calanthe. “Ciri, why don’t you show the new Witcher the village.”

And Ciri jumped into action, bright grin on her face as she pulled Jaskier after her. Geralt grunted, nodding his head when Jaskier looked at him a little helplessly. As Geralt watched their retreating backs, Calanthe spoke. “You trust him?”

“Yes.” Geralt replied without hesitation. “I wouldn’t have brought him here if I didn’t.”

...........

The force of Ciri indeed, Jaskier thought a little dryly as he was dragged by the young girl into a large field filled with wildflowers a little way from the beach. “And this is my favourite place on the whole island.” Ciri declared happily, finally removing her hand from Jaskier’s hand so she could indicate the flowers with both hands.

“Is it?” Jaskier smiled and Ciri nodded enthusiastically. She had shown Jaskier ever inch of the small village, stating where she thought were the best places to hide, where she was given free cakes and even the grumpy old pig that was kept in a pen that had chased her down the streets when she’d opened its gate.

“Yes.” Ciri announced and Jaskier chuckled softly. The sweet innocence of this child did a lot to lighten Jaskier’s nerves but he still didn’t fully understand why Geralt had brought him here. Or even where here was.

Glancing at the flowers scattered around Jaskier couldn’t help the idea that spurred in his mind as he settled onto the floor in front of Ciri. “Tell me Ciri, have you ever made a flower crown?”

“A flower crown?” Ciri asked, excitement in her voice.

“Do you want me to teach you?’ The excited squeal was all the answer Jaskier needed as he started to pull the flowers from the ground.

........

Geralt found Jaskier and Ciri in the field of flowers like he knew he would. Pavetta had always brought Ciri here and since her and Duny’s death Ciri was nearly always here. When she wasn’t causing mischief at least. What he didn’t expect though was to find Ciri and Jaskier sitting on the grass, flowers sitting in both their hairs.

Geralt hummed as he looked at the mass of bright pink and purple flowers that sat on top of Jaskier’s head. Ciri was chattering endlessly and Jaskier was listening intently, offering comments were needed. Ciri herself wore an identical headpiece, made of yellow and blue flowers. The sight before him made Geralt’s heart flutter.

“Geralt.” Ciri shouted as she spotted him. Jaskier turned from where he was seated and he mailed softly at Geralt. The sight made Geralt’s heart flutter even more.

“Your Grandmother’s looking for you.” Geralt stated and Ciri sighed.

“Ok, but don’t leave without saying goodbye.” Ciri’s voice was filled with seriousness as she glared Geralt down.

“I promise.” Geralt chuckled and Ciri smiled happily, before turning to Jaskier.

“You either.” Jaskier looked a little startled but he smiled at the girl as well.

“Promise.” Ciri nodded and then she was off, running down the field in a flash of ash blond hair. Geralt chuckled fondly at her retreating figure.

Slowly, Geralt settled on the grass next to Jaskier, eyes drawn to the flowers braided together on Jaskier’s head. Jaskier blushed a little, eyes dropping to the floor. “I was showing Ciri how to make flower crowns.”

“It’s nice.” Geralt grunted and Jaskier blushed again.

They sat in silence for a little while, Geralt staring at the flowers surrounding them and Jaskier leaning back on his arms, eyes closed and a content look on his face. “It’s called Cintra.” Geralt started, eyes still fixed on a spot ahead of him. “That’s What Calanthe named it when she came here.”

“I’ve never heard of it.” Jaskier said after the silence went on for a while.

“You won’t have.” Geralt grunted, turning eyes to meet Jaskier’s bright blue ones. “It’s not on any maps. No one even knows it exists.” Jaskier looked at Geralt with confusion in his eyes.

“Why did you bring me here?” Jaskier’s voice was soft as he spoke.

“I wanted you to see it.” Geralt replied, voice honest as he looked at Jaskier’s blue eyes. They sparkled in the afternoon sun, like sapphires Geralt thought. “I wanted you to know why we do what we do.” The silence that stretched was longer this time. Jaskier’s eyes were still fixed on Geralt, a strange look Geralt couldn’t pinpoint on his face as Geralt gathered his words.

“Calanthe came here after her daughter died, Pavetta. Ciri’s Mother.” Geralt started, seeing the question in Jaskier’s eyes and softly grunting, “Shipwreck. Ciri’s Father Duny died on it to.”

“You were close?” Jaskier asked softly and Geralt shrugged. They weren’t, not really but Geralt had sailed Duny’s life and Ciri’s Father had never forgotten that debt to the day he died. They were good people. Kind. They hadn’t deserved to die. “Why did Calanthe come here?” Jaskier asked after a while more silence and Geralt grunted, eyes turning back to Jaskier.

“To get away at first.” Calanthe had been stricken with grief at the death of his daughter and she and her husband Eist had cut all ties with everyone they knew, travelling on their ship before settling here. “I came to them a few years ago.” Geralt grunted, eyes taking on a far away look. “The Witcher had taken a slavers ship.” They hadn’t known what the ships cargo was. If they had, back then Geralt didn’t know if they would have even bothered to take it. Back then the Witchers had only ever attacked ships for the same reason every pirate did. Money and a way to blow off a little steam.

“We didn’t have a fucking clue what to do with them. We couldn’t just leave them.” In the process of talking, jaskier had moved a little closer, body nearly pressed against Geralt’s side as he spoke. As Geralt paused, Jaskier reached over to take Geralt’s hands in his own, squeezing the pirates hand softly. “It was Eskel who remembered there were islands that were uninhabited in this region. We couldn’t just take them to any port and we figured this would do until we could figure out what to do.”

Silence once more, Jaskier’s hand a re-assuring weight in Geralt’s as Geralt stared out at the flowers. “Found out Calanthe and Eist were here by accident. Almost cut my bloody head off when we landed.” Geralt chuckled, remembering the landing party pulling into shore to check the island out and coming face to face with Calanthe’s sword pointed at their heads.

“She listened to our problem and offered to let them stay. She and Eist still had strings they could pull and they said they could get them home, or freed papers. If they wanted.” Jaskier hummed. Looking over, Geralt was surprised to find Jaskier’s eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Most of them left, home or to a port with freed papers.” Geralt shrugged. “Bu some decided to stay. Started calling Calanthe their Queen.” Geralt chuckled. Calanthe had grinned viciously at that title.

“After that we started to come back here more often. Supplies for the island, something they could survive off. Whenever we came across a slavers ship we’d liberate it, bring the slaves here so Calanthe and Eist could help them.” A tear rolled down Jaskier’s face now as he turned bright blue eyes to Geralt. The look of awe in them made Geralt startle a little.

“Every time we take a ship we bring most of the supplies here.” Geralt finished. “We don’t need the money, keep only what we need for repairs and to supplement a few days on shore. Calanthe and Eist keep the rest. Use the money to buy supplies for the island and to pay for the freed slaves to start their new lives or get home.”

When they had first started this Geralt had expected some sort of rebellion amongst his crew. He had expected at least a few of them to complain about giving away their hard earned money. But none of them had. They had all agreed that what they were doing was the right thing. To help people who needed it. That and the Witchers had never really done it for the money. Like Jaskier they had started this life because of the adventure. The money had never really mattered to any of them.

“The whole worlds wrong about you.” Jaskier breathed, eyes still fixed on Geralt with a look of admiration. “They all think your cruel heartless pirates but they’re wrong. They’re so fucking wrong.”

Usually Geralt didn’t care what the rest of the world thought of him. The Witchers survived because the world had that fear of them. But seeing the adoring, awe-filled look of Jaskier sitting next to him Geralt couldn’t help but be glad. Be glad that at least one person in the world knew why they did what they did.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mentions of non con elements in this chapter. Nothing graphic

Jaskier was impressed, very impressed. Geralt had managed to do something that he hadn’t thought possible on a ship the size of a Witcher. Since leaving the island of Cintra and heading back out to the large open ocean, Jaskier hadn’t seen Geralt since. Yes, he’d seen the pirate Captain standing at the upper deck, amber eyes glaring ahead as he steered the ship but Jaskier had only seen the man from a distance. Any time Jaskier got even close to Geralt, the man would suddenly realise he had somewhere else he needed to be and make a hasty retreat. It was impressive, but Jaskier didn’t understand why Geralt was suddenly avoiding him.

He had thought Geralt opening up to him, showing him what the Witchers did with the treasures they stole from merchant ships, would ring them closer together. At the very least, jaskier had thought Geralt telling him about this was the Captain’s way of saying he accepted Jaskier into their crew. But now Geralt was avoiding Jaskier and Jaskier couldn’t help think he’d done something wrong.

Jaskier had run everything he had done in Cintra over and over in his mind but he couldn’t understand what he had done to annoy Geralt into avoiding him. Was it Ciri? Was Geralt angry that Jaskier had spent the whole of their time in land with the young girls rather than helping the crew? No, Jaskier knew that wasn’t it. From the small interactions Jaskier had seen with Ciri and the Witchers, Jaskier knew Geralt wouldn’t stop anyone from spending time with Ciri if it made the girl happy. So what was it?

In a way, Jaskier was pleased that Geralt was avoiding him. Ever since returning to the ship, Jaskier had started to feel...well something more for Geralt. He had always thought the pirate Captain was handsome, anyone with half a brain could see that Geralt was. And Jaskier would admit he’d been fascinated with Geralt ever since meeting him at the Lodge. After all what self respecting man, let alone a pirate, paid for a night alone with a whore and only wanted to talk. And then let said whore be apart of their crew.

So Jaskier could admit he was fascinated and perhaps slightly infatuated with the white haired pirate. But since his talk with Geralt in Cintra something had changed. Everything had changed.

Just thinking of the pirate Captain now made Jaskier’s heart beat a little faster and the few glimpses he’d seen of Geralt since had made Jaskier duck his head in embarrassment. He’d never been good at hiding his true emotions, not really. He had a good poker face but when he truly felt something for someone, Jaskier couldn’t hide it. The doe eyed affect an old lover in London had called it and Jaskier just knew he had those same doe eyes looking at Geralt. And if Geralt saw them then Geralt would know Jaskier was starting to feel something...something more than friendship towards the pirate Captain.

In all honesty, Jaskier didn’t know how to describe his feelings towards Geralt because he was blatantly trying to ignore them. Very unsuccessfully judged by the way his heart raced and face heated whenever he saw Geralt but still.

Jaskier didn’t want to admit his new feelings for Geralt because he was afraid. Afraid that if Geralt found out how Jaskier was feeling then Geralt would make him leave the Witcher. After all, who was Jaskier kidding falling in love with a pirate, he was just a whore. And shit, Jaskier wasn’t meant to be thinking of love. He didn’t love Geralt. He couldn’t love Geralt. If he loved Geralt then he lost his chance at an adventure. He would be off the Witcher faster than he could blink. And the thought of what would most certainly happen if he was forced off the Witcher had Jaskier shivering. 

So no, it was a good thing that Geralt was avoiding him. Even if it did make his heart clench painfully at that fact, Jaskier knew it was good. Because while Geralt was avoiding him, Jaskier could force those feelings deep inside himself and pretend they didn’t exist. Better for everyone that he do that.

“What are you looking at?” Eskel grunted as he came to lean on the rail where Jaskier had been looking at the bright blue ocean as his thought whirled around him.

“N...nothing.”” Jaskier stammered, heart racing a mile a minute at the sudden interruption. He hadn’t heard Eskel’s approach.

Eskel chuckled softly, clapping a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder. “Crew’s divvying up the rest of the cargo from the merchant ship if you want a share.”

“No, I’m good.” Jaskier responded, smiling honestly. Eskel nodded but still remained standing at the rail next to Jaskier. “Don’t you want anything?”

“No, Lambert already stole all the good shit.” And Jaskier laughed then, it sounded like something Lambert would do. 

They stood for a few moments in silence before Eskel grunted, hands moving into his coat and pulling something out. Jaskier looked curiously at the wrapped cloth Eskel now held in his hands. “Found these in the cargo. We thought you should have them.”

“Oh, erm thank you.” Jaskier blushed a little as Eskel grunted, handing the items to Jaskier who took them with a little apprehension. 

As Jaskier unfolded the cloth covering them, he found two twin daggers sitting in the wrapped cloth. Jaskier could tell the weapons were worn from the battered sheaths they sat in but as he pulled one out of the sheath he saw the metal had been sharpened to a fine point, Jaskier had no doubt if he run his finger down the length even lightly it would draw blood. And the handles were a supple leather, new Jaskier thought as he wrapped a hand around it.

Eskel grunted as he watched Jaskier take the dagger into a grip in his hand. “Letho found them in the wreckage.” Eskel explained as Jaskier turned surprised blue eyes onto the first mate. Eskel’s scarred face was turned downwards as if a little bit in embarrassment. “Coen re-wrapped the handle and Lambert re-sharpened it.” 

“They didn’t have to.” jaskier said voice soft as he felt emotions clogging at his throat. They had done this for him. Why?

As if sending the silent question Eskel grunted, turning amber eyes to Jaskier. There was a frown on his face as he spoke. “You risked your life to save Geralt.” Eskel growled, eyes filled with seriousness as he spoke. “Your a Witcher now. And a Witcher needs a good weapon.”

“I...truly thank you.” Jaskier finally said, knowing it wasn’t enough. “You’ve all already done so much for me so thank you.”

Eskel grunted, slapping a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder and held there for a moment before nodding. “You don’t need to than us lark, Witchers look after each other.” And with that the first mate walked away, leaving a stunned Jaskier watching him walk away.

When he came to the Witcher, the last thing he had ever expected was to find friendships but as he stood watching the sea gently lap at the Witchers hull, he realised he’d found so much more. He’d found a family.

...........

“Still lurking.” Lambert commented dryly as Geralt watched Eskel give the daggers over to Jaskier. Geralt just growled. He wasn’t lurking, he was just...watching. “Should have been you to give him those.” Lambert continued as if Geralt had spoken. “You’re the Captain not Eskel.”

Geralt didn’t reply. He knew Lambert was right, as the Captain he should have been the one to give Jaskier the crews gift. Their way of telling Jaskier they accepted him as part of the Witcher. But Geralt couldn’t. Not when he had a hundred emotions running through his brain that he didn’t have a fucking clue how to understand.

“Still, sure there’s another gift you want to give our lark.” Lambert grinned and Geralt snarled at the other man. 

“Fuck off.” Geralt growled, making Lambert snort on a laugh.

“What do you think, our lark on top or bottom.” Geralt didn’t give Lambert a second to think before punching him across the face. “Fuck, what was that for?” Lambert said, smirk in place as he rubbed his jaw. Geralt hadn’t punched him with the full force of his strength but even if he had he doubted it would be enough to wipe that smirk off Lambert’s face.

“Don’t talk about Jaskier like that.” Lambert held his hands up in surrender.

“It was just a joke, shit. It’s not my fault your in love with our lark.” Geralt growled again, fists clenching at his side as he glared daggers at Lambert.

“I’m not in love with Jaskier.” Geralt snarled.

“And now your lying to yourself.” Lambert pointed out. “But please, keep fucking doing that. Just stop with the doe eyes across the ship it’s making me want to hurl.” And before Geralt could retort Lambert was walking away.

Shit, Geralt growled, slamming a fist against the wooden rail he was standing by. Fuck, love. Geralt didn’t love Jaskier. Except, he’d never really been in love so how the fuck would he even know if he did. Fuck, he couldn’t be in love with Jaskier. Jaskier was part of the crew and Geralt had been telling himself that every fucking day since they had set sail from Tortuga. Geralt couldn’t risk the crews dynamic by being in love with Jaskier.

Except after Cintra the feelings he had been repressing had suddenly returned ten fold. Seeing Jaskier sitting in that meadow, blue eyes as clear as the ocean, flowers in his hair as he sat with Ciri had done something to Geralt’s heart that had terrified the pirate Captain. And then Geralt had told Jaskier about what Cintra was, why the Witchers came here and Jaskier had...Fuck, Jaskier had told Geralt he didn’t think the Witchers were monsters. That he didn’t see Geralt as a monster. And no one in Geralt’s whole life, outside of the Witchers themselves and perhaps Yennefer and Ciri, had ever seen anything besides a monster. 

Knowing Jaskier saw him as something more than the world made him about to be had opened the floodgates and now every time Geralt saw Jaskier he felt an overwhelming urge to act on those feelings. To kiss those plush pink lips, to run his hands through the windswept brown hair. To hold Jaskier closed in his arms. To feel Jaskier’s arms around him. And fuck, Geralt couldn’t have that. Even if he could, Jaskier would never feel the same way towards him as Geralt did. After all, how could he? How could anyone truly love a Witcher?

.........

2 weeks after leaving Cintra, Jaskier had perfected it. He’d been working on the song since arriving on the Witcher but the gift of the daggers had made Jaskier re-think everything he’d written at this point. He wanted a song for the Witchers, for the men he considered not only friends but brothers. So every spare moment Jaskier had had for the last 2 weeks he had been furiously scrawling in his notebook, playing tunes on his lute until he found the perfect ones.

And finally, it was done. Jaskier was a little nervous as he sat in the dining area that evening. It wasn’t uncommon for him to sing in the evenings, the Witchers being a surprisingly good audience. They always clapped to Jaskier’s songs, shouting requests and cheering when he was finished. But this was different. This wasn’t just any song. This was a song Jaskier had written specifically for the Witchers. And he was nervous. More nervous than he had ever been before performing.

But, Jaskier was nothing if not a born performer. So he hid those nerves behind bright smiles and laughs as he ran through a few requests thrown his way. And when he knew he had the attention of the pirates, even Geralt who had for once in the last 2 weeks not vacated the room when Jaskier walked in.

Without missing a beat from his last song, Jaskier strummed the opening notes of ‘Toss a coin to your Witcher’.

.........

The second Jaskier started to play, the whole room fell silent. Every pirates eyes were on Jaskier as he strummed his lute and sang the song he had written for them with the full range of his vocal ability. Geralt stood transfixed, heart warming as Jaskier sang. After the first chorus, the pirates started to sing it back to their lark. Shouts of ‘toss a coin to your Witcher o’ valley of plenty’ echoed across the Witcher and Jaskier seemed to brighten as the loudness only increased towards the end of the song.

As Jaskier finished the final note a roar of applause came up and Jaskier’s whole face lit up. Geralt was taken aback by the bright vibrant smile that ran across Jaskier’s face, splitting it almost in half as he gave an over exaggerated bow to his audience.

“We’ve got our own bard here!” Letho shouted over the noise and there was a general shout of agreement at that.

“Come on bar, play it again.” Aukes added, shouting to be heard above the other Witcher’s shouts of agreement.

“Yeah, we want to know more about how everyone should be tossing us money!” Axel continued.

“Fucking shut up and let him play then!” Aidan this time and a hush fell over the crowds of Witchers.

Happiness and joy radiated off Jaskier as he once more played the opening notes and launched into song. The story he had managed to weave into his songs was a re-telling of their attack on the merchant vessel, Geralt realised as he listened more closely to the lyrics. Jaskier had embellished certain parts to make the story more exciting and better for song but the essence of what the fight and subsequent taking of the ships treasure was the same.

As Geralt watched, Jaskier started to move around his audience, winking and twirling to the laughs and shouts of the Witchers. All in all he played that song, the Witchers song over 20 times that night. Geralt knew he wouldn’t get the words of that chorus out of his head for a long time but he didn’t care. The joy and look of abandon in Jaskier’s face as the Witchers sang his words back to him, shouting for repeats again and again was worth it.

As Jaskier finished the final repeat of the song and gave an over-exaggerated bow, Geralt realised Lambert was right. He was in love with Jaskier. Fuck.

.............

Tortuga. it was like coming full circle and Jaskier was, understandably, a little apprehensive. He’d been about to offer to stay behind on the ship when they docked but Aidan and Lambert had asked him to go down to the taverns with them that evening and Jaskier didn’t want to say no. Especially not when they, along with the rest of the crew, demanded that their bard go down with his lute and sing the triumphs of the Witchers at the taverns.

Jaskier admitted that seeing the Witchers so enthralled by his song was a heady rush. It had left him with more Adrenalin than any performance ever had and it had taken days to wear off. That was nearly a week ago and in truth the Adrenalin hadn’t really warn off yet either. Every time Jaskier would catch the Witchers singing the chorus or humming the song as they worked it sent a new thrill running through Jaskier.

He was already writing his next song for the Witchers and he couldn’t help but grin madly at Letho’s’ words. Bard. The Witchers bard. Jaskier had always wanted to sing, always wanted to entertain people and now. Now he was getting to do exactly that and it was the most heady experience he had ever had.

“Come on bard.” Letho grinned, throwing an arm around Jaskier’s shoulder as the group of 5 Witchers headed into Tortuga. Jaskier grinned at the name, hand wrapped around the strap of his lute.

The tavern they picked was the usual Tortuga tavern. Jaskier pushed back the memories of nights performing in these taverns followed by being taken out into the alley by pirates. he had hated doing that. Hated that he had had to resort to selling himself for money. But that wouldn’t happen again. Not now Jaskier was part of the Witchers. Unless he fucked it up.

“You good lark?” Aidan grunted from across the table. Jaskier nodded, pushing away those thoughts and offering a smile.

“Good, now sing that fucking song and show all these arseholes how good the Witchers are.” Lambert laughed. Letho and Aukes grunted their agreement and Aidan snorted a laugh, throwing an arm around Jaskier’s shoulders.

“You heard the man lark, the official bard of the Witchers job is to make us sound good.” Aidan added and jaskier snorted back a laugh.

“Hard thing to do with a face like Lamberts.” The three Witchers snorted into the ales as lambert let out an indignant sound.

Jaskier grinned, pulling out his lute and making his way towards the centre of the room. The room was filled with pirates shouting and laughing and jaskier felt unease run through him. He had played in this tavern before. Had played in this tavern and then been taken out back, forced onto his knees and had a cock stuffed down his throat. Jaskier shivered at the memory as he stubbornly pushed it away. This wouldn’t happen now. Not hear. Not in front when the Witchers were sitting so close by. He was safe. He wasn’t a whore any more.

So swallowing down the fear that built inside him, Jaskier plastered on a smile and strummed a few notes on his lute. As for the Witchers, he started with familiar songs first to get his audiences attention. The pirates shouted their enjoyment, singing the known words back to the bard as Jaskier danced around the room, grinning madly. He had always thrived off an audience, even when he had known the performance would end with him in the back alley being used by a pirate he had still enjoyed the thrill of the performance.

When jaskier knew he definitely had the crowds attention, he took a quick glance at the Witchers table. The 4 Witchers thumped their tankards on the table, nodding their heads in approval and Jaskier grinned back as he started to the opening tunes for Toss a Coin to your Witcher.

It didn’t take long before the Witchers were shouting the words back at him as Jaskier played the room and after he had sung the chorus a second time the other pirates to were singing it. Jaskier grinned madly as he played the room to the tune of the song he had wrote.

When he finished the final notes Jaskier gave a bow to his audience, grin fixed in place. There was a general cheer around him as Jaskier made his back towards the Witchers table, only to be stopped by a hard slap on his arse. Jaskier felt his cheeks burn as that same hand came to wrap around his waist and drag him towards the pirates lap.

“What did I tell you boys, whore as a voice like magic. Even better around you cock.” The pirates breath stank as he dragged Jaskier onto his lap, mouth coming to mouth at Jaskier’s neck.

“What did the Witchers pay your double for that song whore?” Another pirate at the table added. The pirate who had dragged Jaskier onto his laps hand was travelling upwards, coming to rest on Jaskier’s cock.

“Want to give us a private show whore?” The man grinned, squeezing Jaskier’s cock tightly enough to make Jaskier squirm. And that simple action had all of the fear that had been paralysing Jaskier until that moment vanish and in its place come red hot fury. This man had no fucking right to touch him.

Jaskier’s hand vanished into the pocket where he kept the daggers the Witchers had given him, every intention of cutting this mans balls off for fucking touching him when Jaskier was suddenly being dragged off the mans lap. A blue of white hair flashed past Jaskier’s face as he staggered to regain his footing from being hauled to his feet. Geralt moved with a blur, fist coming into contact with the pirates face and knocking him clean off his chair.

The tavern fell into complete silence as all eyes turned to the furious Captain before Lamberts loud “Fuck yeah, a fight!” Broke the silence and there was a general roar from all the pirates in the tavern and a full tavern brawl broke out.

And all Jaskier could do was stand there, looking at Geralt as cold white hot fury ran through him.

...........

“You fucking bastard!” Jaskier yelled as he followed Geralt out of the tavern. As soon as the fight had started, Geralt had grabbed Jaskier’s wrist and pulled the man out of the bar and away from the brawling pirates. Now as Jaskier struggled out of Geralt’s grip, face contorted with fury all Geralt could do was stand in the alley and stare at Jaskier in confusion. “You fucking bastard, what gives you the fucking right to do that.” jaskier yelled and Geralt felt hurt run through I’m. He was only trying to protect Jaskier.

“I was trying to help.” Geralt tried but Jaskier just snorted a laugh. When Geralt had seen Jaskier being pulled onto that pirates lap he had seen red, anger bubbling through him as he saw the panic radiating in Jaskier’s eyes and he had acted on pure instinct.

“Trying to help me. To fucking help me.” Jaskier repeated, blue eyes blazing with anger. “You’ve been fucking ignoring me for weeks so what makes you think I want your help.” Jaskier moved close to Geralt as he poked the bigger man hard in the chest. “I don’t need your help.”

“That bastard was going to.” Geralt growled before Jaskier cut him off.

“What, rape me?” Jaskier retorted. “What did you expect? I’m a whore. A worthless fucking whore who used to let those men have sex with me for money. They thought I was working.” And just like that the fight drained out of Jaskier. Geralt watched and his heart broke as the anger disappeared from Jaskier’s eyes and was instead replaced with anguish so acute Geralt felt like the breath was knocked out of him. “Fuck. They thought I was working.”

And just like that Jaskier crumbled, hands coming to run through his hair as dropped his back to the dirty wall, heedless of the lute still strapped to his back. “Jask, it’s ok.” Geralt tried and Jaskier looked at him with an incredulous look.

“Ok? How the fuck is this ok Geralt?” And Geralt didn’t know what to say to stop jaskier spiralling. The man’s eyes had turned a stormy grey as tears glistened in them. “I’m still just a whore. I’ll always be a fucking whore.”

“You’re not.” Geralt growled, anger running through him for a whole other reason now. “You aren’t a whore Jaskier, you never were.”

“Of course I was Geralt. What the fuck else do you call someone who sells their body for money?” Jaskier yelled, tears running down his face now and shit, Geralt was just making this worse.

“Desperate.” Geralt suddenly said, shocking even himself. Jaskier looked at him with heartbreaking confusion and Geralt quickly continued. “You did what you had to do to survive Jaskier. That’s brave.”

“It’s not brave. It’s weak. So fucking weak.” Jaskier’s voice had turned soft as his gaze dropped to the floor.

“No.” Geralt whispered, wrapping a hand around Jaskier’s arm. Jaskier looked at the arm before turning tear-filled blue eyes to Geralt. “You’re not weak. You...fuck...you saved my life. Nearly got yourself killed for me. Had the balls to sell yourself so you didn’t die in a ditch, most people wouldn’t have been able to do that. You’re not a weak person.”

“I hate that I had to do it.” Jaskier whispered. “I hate that I had to sell myself to those men.” Geralt didn’t know what to say so instead he let instinct drive him and pull Jaskier into a hug. Jaskier’s hands came to fist in Geralt’s shirt as he silently cried into the pirate Captains shirt. 

“You’ll never have to do that again.” Geralt found himself promising, pressing a soft kiss to Jaskier’s hair. “You’re a Witcher now.” Jaskier slowly lifted his head up to meet Geralt’s, blue eyes glistening as Geralt spoke. “You’ll never have to sell yourself again.”

And then Jaskier’s lips were suddenly fixed on Geralt’s own. Geralt stood stock still as Jaskier’s mouth pressed bruisingly against his own lips. Jaskier tasted like the ocean. The taste of salt and the ale he had been drinking lingering on Geralt’s lips as Jaskier pulled away. Jaskier’s eyes had turned wide, mouth open in a silent oh and fresh tears running down his face.

“You can’t say never Geralt.” Jaskier whispered quietly. “You can’t promise something you can’t keep.” Geralt just stared at Jaskier, dumbfounded as he brought a finger to his lips. Jaskier’s lips had been soft against his, soft and Geralt just wanted to kiss those lips on his again. “You won’t want me to stay Geralt. Not now.” Jaskier’s eyes had turned to the floor. “I...I wasn’t going to say anything but...fuck.” Jaskier’s bright blue eyes turned to Geralt, pleading and so heartbreaking in their vulnerability. “I care about you Geralt. I...I think I love you and I know you don’t feel that way about me. I know you can’t, you deserve better than a whore. But I can’t let you promise those things without knowing how I feel.”

Jaskier was still talking but Geralt didn’t hear any of it. All his brain kept running over and over again in his mind was that Jaskier loved him. Jaskier loved him. The handsome, kind, loving bard; the Witchers lark, loved a monster like Geralt. It was impossible. But Jaskier had said it.

Jaskier’s heartbroken voice pulled Geralt back to Jaskier’s words. “I know you won’t want me on the Witcher now so I’ll leave.” And Geralt felt like his heart was breaking in two. Jaskier was leaving. Why, why did Jaskier think he had to leave.

“Jaskier, I...”. Geralt tried but Jaskier just shook his head interrupting him before he could say a word.

“You don’t have to be a good person Geralt.” Tears were running down Jaskier’s cheeks as he gave Geralt a watery smile, hand coming to adjust the strap of the lute on his back. “You don’t have to lie and say your fine with me feeling this way and I don’t want to make this harder for you so I’ll make sure you won’t ever see me again. You never know, maybe Yennefer won’t have given away my room at the Lodge yet.” Jaskier finished this with a watery laugh as he turned away. Turned away to leave Geralt standing there.

Geralt had never been good with words. Preferred actions and grunted to actual communication so as Jaskier turned instead of shouting his undying love for the foolish bard, instead of begging him to stay because Geralt didn’t care that Jaskier loved him, if anything it made his heart leap in a way it never had before; Geralt grabbed Jaskier’s hand and pulled him towards him.

Jaskier let out a breathy oh as Geralt pushed his lips onto Jaskier’s own, kissing the man properly now he wasn’t caught off his guard. Jaskier was still for a moment before his lips also started to move. Geralt hummed as he felt Jaskier’s hands wrap themselves around Geralt’s hair and he instinctively wrapped his own arms around Jaskier’s slim waist.

“Geralt, you don’t have to.” Jaskier whispered as they broke their kiss.

Geralt growled, kissing Jaskier again and pulling him closer. “I want you.” Geralt growled. “I don’t want you to leave. Fuck Jaskier, I love you to.” And Geralt didn’t think there was anything more beautiful than the watery hesitant smile Jaskier gave him in answer.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Sexual content and mentions of past dubious non-con elements in this chapter.

They found themselves back at the Witcher in Geralt’s cabin. Jaskier moaned into Geralt’s lips as the pirate Captain pressed their lips together after locking the door to his cabin. Wrapping his hand in Geralt’s long white hair, Jaskier let out a satisfied hum at the growl Geralt gave. Geralt’s hands were wrapped around Jaskier’s waist, holding him close as the two’s lips entangled. Geralt’s tongue pressed against Jaskier’s lips and Jaskier responded by entwining his own tongue with Geralt’ s. Geralt growled again, hands firming around Jaskier’s waist and pushing them to the side of the bed.

As the backs of Jaskier’s knees came into contact with the hard wooden surface of the bed, Jaskier let out a quiet huff of surprise. Geralt hummed, kissing Jaskier fiercely again. “I think my dear Witcher.” Jaskier replied, voice breathless as Geralt released his lips to come up for air. “That we are entirely to clothed for this.” Geralt let out a grunt of agreement.

Jaskier let out a breathy oh as Geralt dropped the black leather coat he wore on the floor and quickly cast his shirt off. It left the man half naked, rippling muscular torso on display and Jaskier felt like his knees had suddenly gone very weak at the sight. Geralt gave a predatory smile, amber eyes blazing in lust as he wrapped his fingers through Jaskier’s hair and drew Jaskier close for another kiss. Jaskier moaned, hands abandoning his stroking of Geralt’s hair and instead moving to run up and down the defined muscles of Geralt’s chest. Geralt growled as Jaskier’s light fingers brushed close to the top of breeches.

“You like that?” Jaskier breathed and Geralt responded with a growl, one hand disentangled from Jaskier’s hair to push up the shirt Jaskier was wearing. Jaskier moaned as Geralt’s fingers danced across the muscles of his belly, the sound being silenced by Geralt’s lips on his own. “Geralt.” Jaskier whimpered as Geralt’s teeth came to nip at Jaskier’s lips, a playful smile appearing on Geralt’s lips.

They were still nearly fully clothed and already Jaskier could feel the straining of his cock against his breeches. “Shirt off?” Geralt asked and Jaskier nodded, moving his hands to pull at the shirt (thankful the night had been to warm for his blue coat leaving him with less clothing to work out of). Geralt growled, moving before Jaskier’s hands had even got to the hem of his shirt and ripping through the material.

“Fuck, Geralt. That was my favourite shirt.” Jaskier protested as he slipped his hands through the now ripped light red shirt.

Geralt just grunted, pushing Jaskier backwards so they fell onto the bed a tangle of limbs with Jaskier pressed into the mattress by Geralt’s bulk. But he wasn’t pinned, Geralt kept his weight barley on top of Jaskier, making it so all the man had to do was move backwards if he wanted to be free of the hold Geralt had on him. But Jaskier didn’t want to. Especially when Geralt’s mouth moved to press against Jaskier’s bared neck. Jaskier moaned loudly as Geralt suckled at the spot, tongue coming to brush against the bared skin. Jaskier shivered under the touch, hands tangled firmly in Geralt’s hair.

When Geralt lifted his head he held a wicked smile and Jaskier dragged Geralt’s head forwards with the hold he had on the other mans hair. Geralt hummed into the kiss, Jaskier acting on the sounds as he assaulted Geralt’s mouth with his tongue. They rolled on the bed, Geralt turning on his back as Jaskier straddled the other mans hips, giving him a lecherous smile as he broke the kiss.

Geralt let out a loud growl like moan as Jaskier bent down, kissing down Geralt’s chest and teeth coming to softly press against one of Geralt’s nipples. The pirate captain arched off the bed. “Fuck…Jask.” Jaskier just smirked, mouth moving to the other nipple. He chuckled at the growl Geralt gave, relishing the feel of the mans hands coming to wrap in Jaskier’s hair. They didn’t force Jaskier to move his hand, move a grip as if Geralt needed something to hold to keep himself grounded as Jaskier moved his mouth further down Geralt’s chest.

When Jaskier’s hands came to unlace Geralt’s breeches, mouth kissing softly at Geralt’s his, the hands in his hair tightened. Geralt moaned long and loud as Jaskier pulled his breeches down and his mouth came to mouth softly against the other man’s thick member through his small clothes. 

And then Geralt’s hands tightened once more, hips involuntarily thrusting upwards towards Jaskier’s teasing mouth and Jaskier felt panic claw through him. Memories of kneeling on the dirty floor, on the rugged carpets of the lodge. Memories of hands tight in his hair, thrusting his face forwards to meet the unrelenting thrusting of their hips. Jaskier choked back a sob as he remembered the feeling of choking on those cocks, of being forced to swallow the cum just for the coin he needed to survive.

He wasn’t aware of Geralt’s hands releasing him. Wasn’t aware of Geralt moving from underneath him as he pressed forwards into the mattress, breathing edging on hysterical as he sobbed at the memories of what he had had to do. He didn’t notice Geralt moving to kneel beside him, hands outstretched as if afraid to touch Jaskier. As far as he was in his own living nightmare he wasn’t aware of any of it.

……

Geralt panicked. Everything had been going so well. Better than well. Fucking fantastic. Geralt had been 2 seconds off creaming his small clothes like a fucking teenage boy just from the feelings of Jaskier’s mouth ghosting across his body. Fuck, when Jaskier had started to mouth his straining cock through his small clothes Geralt had seen stars.

And then Jaskier had let out a strangled whimper and nothing had so effectively killed an erection like the wounded animal sound Jaskier gave. Geralt was out from under Jaskier’s body in a heartbeat, erection slowly waning as he took in the sight of Jaskier huddled forward, face pressed against the mattress as he let out small sobs.

How had things gone so fucking wrong? Geralt had thought Jaskier was enjoying it. Fuck, but how would he know really. Jaskier had been a prostitute for months and a performer for a lot longer. Fuck, if anyone could hide their fears it would be Jaskier. Geralt had been so lost in his own pleasure that he hadn’t realised anything was wrong. And now Jaskier was curled into the mattress, crying and fucking hyperventilating and Geralt didn’t know what to do.

Acting on instinct, Geralt placed a gentle hand on Jaskier’s shoulder. Jaskier didn’t react, just sobbed harder, shoulders shaking under Geralt’s hand. “Jask, what’s wrong?” Geralt growled and then mentally cursed himself. Obviously whatever Geralt had done was what was wrong. Obviously Geralt had taken fucking advantage and hadn’t thought about what Jaskier actually wanted. That was what was wrong and fuck, this was exactly what Geralt hadn’t wanted to do. He hadn’t wanted to hurt the bright vibrant, innocent man he loved. Fuck, he’d screwed this up massively.

Jask?” Geralt tried again and this time he got a response. Jaskier lifted his head, blue eyes filled with tears and the stormy grey they had been only a few hours ago. 

“Sorry, fuck. Geralt…I’m…fuck…I’m sorry.” Jaskier stammered, breathing slowly evened. Guilt flashed in those eyes as Jaskier tried for a smile. “So, where were we?” Jaskier’s hand came up to cup Geralt’s jaw but Geralt didn’t notice that, all he was focused on was the tremble in those fingers.

“Stop.” Geralt growled and Jaskier froze, hand midway in the air. 

“Did…did I do something wrong?” Jaskier asked. Geralt just gave Jaskier an incredulous look. Jaskier shrugged, trying to smile past the panic so clear in his eyes. “Oh, you mean that. Nothing to worry about. Just pretend it didn’t happen.” Except Geralt couldn’t just pretend. His erection was completely gone now and he stepped off the bed and away from Jaskier’s searching hands. Jaskier gave Geralt a helpless and confused look. “I thought that’s what you wanted?” Jaskier’s voice had turned quiet now and Geralt felt guilt well up in him. Fuck, he wasn’t meant for this.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, Geralt glared at the floor, wishing he could explain what he felt to Jaskier. “I did want it.” Geralt settled on and as he glanced at Jaskier he saw a grin spread across the other mans face but those eyes still held a level of pain that had Geralt’s heart breaking in two. “But, fuck, Jask. I don’t want it if you don’t.”

“But I do.” Jaskier whispered, eyes now dropping down to stare at the floor. A small frown appeared on the younger mans face as he stared at the floor. “I want to make you happy.” 

“But what about you?” Geralt asked. He’d moved closer now, hesitantly putting a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder. When Jaskier didn’t shrug him off Geralt felt some of the tension disappear.

“I…I want to make you happy.” Jaskier tried again. “That’s what sex is isn’t it? Making you happy?” And Geralt felt pain slice through him in a way he never thought possible. Fuck, what had been thinking doing anything with Jaskier. Jaskier who had spent months making people happy, of course he had only thought of Geralt in this moment, not of himself.

“No, it’s about making us both happy.” Geralt growled and Jaskier just looked so heartbreakingly confused. “Fuck. You had a panic attack, Jask.”

“I’m fine.” Jaskier cut in but the panic in those eyes told Geralt otherwise. They were still a stormy grey, tears still shining in those depths threatening to spill at any moment. Geralt hummed, lifting a hand to wipe away a stray tear from Jaskier’s face. “I shouldn’t have panicked. Fuck, I mean what do I have to fucking panic about I’ve done this a hundred times before.” And Geralt had no doubt. No doubt that Jaskier had done it that many times before. Probably more than a hundred and that thought made anger race through Geralt. But anger wasn’t what Jaskier needed. Not right now.

“And how many times did you want it?” Geralt asked, voice quiet as he came to take Jaskier’s hands in his own.

“I…” Jaskier started before trailing off, tears now falling freely down his face once more. “I…they never raped me Geralt. It can’t be rape. I never said no.”

“Just because you didn’t say no doesn’t mean you wanted it.” Geralt grunted and Jaskier just shook his head sadly.

“I was a prostitute Geralt. I let them do what they wanted. I never stopped them, never tried to stop them.” Geralt wrapped arms around Jaskier, glad when the younger man leant into the hold. Pressing a soft kiss to the top of the head, Geralt silently wondered when he had become someone who comforted other people.

“You did what you had to, to survive.” Geralt spoke softly into Jaskier’s hair. “And just because you let them doesn’t mean you ever wanted it.”

“But I want this with you.” Jaskier whispered. “I want this with you so why can’t I have it?” And the heartbreak in Jaskier’s voice made Geralt’s heart ache further. Fuck, this wasn’t fair. Someone as happy and vibrant like Jaskier shouldn’t be crying like this. Jaskier should never have had to deal with everything he had had to deal with it. It wasn’t fair. But then, life wasn’t fair a part of his mind reminded the pirate captain and Geralt hummed. No, life wasn’t fucking fair.

“Geralt,” Jaskier turned blue eyes up to Geralt and Geralt hummed pleased the vibrant blue was once more back. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.” Geralt grunted. “If you’re not ready for this then we don’t have to.”

“But I want it so I can’t understand why I can’t fucking do it.” Anger was flashing in those blue eyes again as Jaskier leant back. “Fuck, Geralt. I never panicked before. I’ve never fucking panicked and I want this so why did I fucking panic?” And Geralt thought he might now. Because he knew what the pirates that Jaskier had let use him were capable. Because he knew from experience with other prostitutes that when they were scared, they would go limp in his arms. It was why Geralt rarely paid for prostitutes and when he did he rarely did anything with them, because the minute they went limp Geralt knew they it was their way of protecting themselves from the hurt that might be caused them. So Geralt knew why Jaskier had never cried before but he didn’t know why he had panicked now. Couldn’t understand why but he was so fucking glad he did. So fucking glad Jaskier’s panic had stopped things going any further. Stopped before Geralt could do something that Jaskier didn’t want.

“Let me.” Geralt spoke and Jaskier looked at him in confusion. Geralt frowned softly, hand coming to take Jaskier’s hand in his. “You want to make me happy?” Jaskier nodded, hesitance in his eyes as Geralt spoke. “Then let me make you happy.”

“I don’t understand?” Jaskier’s voice was small, confusion laced in it as he looked at Geralt.

“It will make me happy if I…fuck if I look after you. Like you wanted to look after me.” Geralt responded. He didn’t know if this was the right thing to do with Jaskier’s panic so fresh in his mind but he also knew that if he left now, refused any further touches from Jaskier then all he would be doing was pushing Jaskier away. And something told Geralt no one had ever stopped to consider what Jaskier might want, never done anything to pleasure Jaskier. And Geralt wanted to do that. He wanted to make Jaskier lose himself under Geralt’s touch as Geralt had so nearly done under Jaskier’s skilled hands.

“But what about you Geralt? I told you, I want this. We can both enjoy it.” As Jaskier spoke he moved up to press a kiss to Geralt’s mouth. Geralt let him, let himself lose himself in that sweet kiss. Let himself lose himself in the unique taste of Jaskier, mouth wet now because of all the tears. But as Jaskier’s hands gently came to trace Geralt’s cock still covered in his small clothes Geralt gently puled away, taking Jaskier’s hands in his.

“You can.” Geralt promised. “But tonight I want to make you feel good.” Jaskier looked at Geralt with confusion in his eyes but as he slowly nodded Geralt felt his heart lighten. Jaskier trusted him to do this. And he couldn’t fuck it up. Fuck.

………

They were both naked now, both having stripped from their breeches boots and small clothes before coming back to the bed. Jaskier subconsciously shivered where he saw on the bed next to Geralt. His hands came to cover his cock, cheeks reddening under Geralt’s fierce gaze. How many times had he walked around the Lodge or his rooms naked or near enough, lustful eyes watching his every move. But this was Geralt and Jaskier wanted this more than anything so he pushed those thoughts aside.

Geralt gently took Jaskier’s hands in his own, Jaskier shivering softly as the cool air touched his now uncovered cock. “The minute you say stop we stop.” Geralt grunted, amber eyes fixed on Jaskier with such an intense gaze that it made Jaskier shiver. “You understand Jaskier?”

Jaskier nodded, feeling his throat clog with emotion at Geralt’s words. “You tell me no and I back away, I won’t hurt you.” And Jaskier believed those words. Believed that he had the power to say no and Geralt would listen. A silent tear ran down Jaskier’s cheeks and Geralt wiped it away, concern in those amber eyes. “We don’t have to?”

“I want this, with you. Please.” Jaskier whispered. Geralt was silent for a long moment, eyes scrutinising Jaskier as if searching for any signs of doubt. And then he nodded, face coming up to kiss Jaskier softly. Jaskier let the kiss transport him, the feel of Geralt’s wind chapped lips against his own, the stubble on Geralt’s jaw brushing against his skin. He moaned softly, hands coming to trail down Geralt’s chest.

“Remember.” Geralt whispered into Jaskier’s lips. “This is about me pleasing you.” Geralt’s hands gently pushed Jaskier down so the other man was lying on the bed. Jaskier whimpered as Geralt’s lips came to press soft kisses to his collar bone.

Geralt hummed softly, smirking as one hand gently trailed down Jaskier’s chest. Geralt’s lips trailed down to lick at Jaskier’s nipple and the younger man moaned, arching his back as Geralt moved to the other side. And then Geralt’s hand was wrapping around Jaskier’s cock which had grown semi-hard against his stomach. Jaskier moaned lustfully as Geralt ran his hand up and down the length.

“Good?” Geralt hummed, kissing Jaskier’s jaw as he spoke. Jaskier couldn’t speak, words having deserted him so instead he bucked his hips, seeking friction, mumbling nonsense. Geralt chuckled before capturing Jaskier’s lips once more in his. Jaskier moaned, jolting off the bed as Geralt’s hand gently started to move up and down.

It was over embarrassingly quickly and Jaskier let out a loud groan as he came all over his and Geralt’s chest. As he came down from his high, he saw the smirk on Geralt’s lips and couldn’t help but smile. He felt light, strange, like his whole body was floating in the air. His eyes dropped down to Geralt’s hard member and he whined a little, hand coming to gently touch it. Geralt shivered, amber eyes closing at the touch.

“Jask…” Geralt started but Jaskier shushed him, gently moving his hand up and down the length.

“I want to.” Jaskier whispered and Geralt just groaned, hands coming to fist against the cushions by Jaskier’s head as Jaskier gently stroked him to completion.

When he was done, Geralt collapsed onto the bed, panting and sweating. Jaskier hummed, moving his body to press close to Geralt’s sides. Geralt’s arms came to wrap around Jaskier’s, pressing a soft kiss to Jaskier’s head as they lay wrapped in each other.

“Thank you.” Jaskier whispered, hand tracing a pattern on Geralt’s chest as he wrapped his legs in Geralt’s. Geralt hummed, kissing Jaskier’s head softly. “No one…no one’s ever done that for me.” Jaskier whispered, burying his head further into Geralt’s chest so the man couldn’t see his embarrassed blush.

Geralt stilled for a moment before pressing a soft kiss onto Jaskier’s temple. “This is about your pleasure as much as mine.” Geralt grunted. “I want to make you happy.”

“And you did. You are.” Jaskier promised, feeling Geralt relax under him. They fell asleep like that, wrapped in each others arms, feeling content and loved.


	8. Chapter 8

They’d left Tortuga 3 weeks ago. It had been over 3 weeks ago that Geralt had finally admitted that he loved Jaskier. Over 3 weeks ago when Jaskier had said he loved Geralt. Fuck, Geralt didn’t think he had ever been this happy, this content in all his life. It was like he had been missing something all these years on the open ocean. Like there had been a Jaskier shaped hole in his life waiting for Geralt to find him.

They had spent a few days in Tortuga, getting together supplies and Geralt and Jaskier had rarely left each other’s sides since they had admitted their feelings for each other. Jaskier hadn’t left the ship since the night he had played in the tavern. None of the crew had mentioned what had happened that night but they all knew. They all knew about the pirate scum that had put his hands on Jaskier after the performance, thinking Jaskier was working that night. Geralt felt a certain gleeful thrill o learn from lambert that after the bar fight the bastard had been left with a broken nose, ribs and had somehow managed to lose 3 fingers. If Geralt had it his way anyone that had ever touched Jaskier would die an ugly and painful death, but he knew that wasn’t what Jaskier wanted.

Geralt knew Jaskier still struggled with what he had to do to survive, still didn’t fully believe that what those men had done to him was rape, but Geralt had resolved to remind Jaskier every time his lover forgot. The two spent every night together now. Most nights they would lie in bed, kissing softly before wrapping in each other’s arms and falling asleep. Geralt loved those times best. Waking up with Jaskier’s steady weight against his chest, Jaskier’s warm breath ghosting over his body.

There were some nights that Jaskier and Geralt would spend hours exploring each other’s bodies. Geralt soon learnt that as experienced as Jaskier was in sex he was very inexperienced when it came to his own pleasure. Every time they became intimate Jaskier would immediately turn to pleasuring Geralt, not that Geralt minded. Jaskier’s lips trailing down his chest and belly, teeth nibbling at his lips as deft fingers worked his cock to completion, had Geralt seeing stars every time. But a heavy pit always settled in his stomach when he saw the hint of surprise in Jaskier’s bright blue eyes when Geralt returned the favour, hands trailing against the soft hair of Jaskier’s chest, lips resting against Jaskier’s inner thigh in a way that had Jaskier gasping and wrapping his hairs in Geralt’s hair as begged for more.

They didn’t go past sweet touches and caresses as they touched each other until they were lying sweating and sated wrapped in each other’s arms, Geralt not wanting to push Jaskier past his limits even though he knew Jaskier wouldn’t complain. And therein lay the horrendous truth. Jaskier wouldn’t say no. When he’d had the panic attack their first night together Jaskier had been willing to continue, had told Geralt to ignore it. And that knowledge left a pit that soured their moments together for Geralt. He loved Jaskier, more than anything and the last thing Geralt wanted to do was to take advantage of his lover. But how could he know if he was taking advantage, doing something Jaskier didn’t truly want, when Jaskier wouldn’t say stop. 

Geralt considered the question with a heavy heart as he gently stroked fingers through Jaskier’s hair. Dawn was only just starting to appear, a warm orange light starting to break past the blackness of the night. As that orange light filtered through the window of Geralt’s cabin it haloed around Jaskier’s sleeping form, resting against Geralt’s chest. It highlighted how truly young and innocent Jaskier was.

Not for the first time Geralt wondered how a man like Jaskier had managed to find his way to Tortuga, let alone becoming a prostitute. Jaskier’s face still held the youthful innocence that only came from living a life of luxury and peacefulness. Even after everything that had happened to him, Jaskier was still painfully optimistic, always smiling and laughing. Geralt wondered if that was Jaskier’s way of coping. Where Geralt hid his trauma’s behind brooding and angry glares, Jaskier hid behind is optimism and bright smiles. But if that was true then everything Geralt knew about Jaskier was a lie.

But then, how much did he truly know about Jaskier. All he truly knew was that Jaskier had been a prostitute. That Jaskier was a fast learner. That Jaskier cared deeply for people regardless of who they were or what their reputation was. He didn’t know about Jaskier’s past, didn’t know who Jaskier truly was behind the facade he showed to world. Geralt had probably glimpsed more of the real Jaskier than anyone else. The night they had confessed their feelings revealing the deep-rooted pain that Jaskier held hidden from the rest of the world.

What Geralt wouldn’t do for Jaskier to push aside his carefully created façade, for Geralt to see the real Jaskier. But then, what right did Geralt have to ask that when he was hiding his true past from Jaskier. Jaskier knew nothing of what the Witchers truly where. Yes, he knew who they were now and Geralt truly believed Jaskier wouldn’t care about the Witchers sordid past because now was what mattered. But still doubt ran through him of what Jaskier would do or say when he finally learnt the truth of them.

A loud knocking at his door pulled Geralt from his musings. Jaskier stirred, bright blue eyes blinking blearily as the door flew open and Eskel stood in the doorway. “We’ve spotted a ship. A few miles out, with this wind we’ll catch them up in a few hours. What do you want to do?””

Geralt felt Jaskier shift in the bed, pulling the sheets to cover his naked chest from Eskel’s view as he sat, leaning against the headboard. Geralt felt the loss of Jaskier’s warm weight against him keenly but pushed those thoughts aside as he swung his legs off the bed. He didn’t care that he was naked under the covers as he stood and grabbed his breeches, pulling them on as he thought. The Witchers had been together for too many years for any of them to care for a simple thing like modesty.

“What kind of ship?” Geralt growled.

“Twice the size of us.” Eskel stated. Geralt hummed quietly as he saw Eskel’s eyes trained solely on Geralt, ignoring Jaskier in the bed. If it had been Lambert then Geralt had no doubt the man would have said something about Jaskier and Geralt in bed together but Eskel had always had more tact than that. It wasn’t that his and Jaskier’s relationship was a secret, a ship the size of the Witcher they would never have been able to hide this from the rest of the crew. “But they’re running, not turning to face us, so probably a merchant ship.”

Geralt hummed again, frowning as he pulled a black shirt over his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jaskier had grabbed a pair of breeches and was pulling them on under the blankets. His blue eyes were flashing between Eskel and Geralt as he listened intently. “Keep following them. We’ll take the ship, see what they have to offer us.” Eskel nodded once before walking out of the room.

“Stay here, lock the door, you’ll be safe here.” Geralt found himself growling as he turned to face Jaskier. Jaskier was now dressed, dark forest green shirt that he’d been wearing yesterday having been pulled over his head. 

“No.” Geralt growled a warning at Jaskier’s refusal. He didn’t want Jaskier in the fight, not after what happened last time. “I’m on a pirate ship Geralt, you can’t protect me from a fight when you’re the ones heading towards it.” Jaskier stated, moving so he was standing in front of Geralt, wrapping arms around the pirate Captains waist.

“I can if you stay here.” Geralt growled. If he could he wouldn’t take Jaskier into danger but Jaskier was right. This was a pirate ship, attacking ships was their business but that didn’t mean Geralt couldn’t keep Jaskier away from the fighting.

“And I said no.” Jaskier replied, anger flashing in those blue eyes. “I came on the Witcher for adventure Geralt, not to hide away from a little danger. And I was fine last time. If I recall correctly, I saved your life.”

“And almost fucking drowned because of it.” Geralt snarled. He still had nightmares of the sight of Jaskier pale, lips blue and not breathing. Fuck, if that happened again.

“So I won’t go anywhere near the railings this time.” Jaskier grinned but the grin quickly disappeared under Geralt’s snarl. “Geralt, I’m not going to stand on the side lines when I can help. I won’t purposefully put myself in danger but I won’t hide either.” 

Geralt looked at the determination on Jaskier’s blue eyes and while every instinct told him to refuse, to lock Jaskier in his quarters, tie the man to the bed if he had to, he also knew he couldn’t. “You do anything stupid I’ll drop you off in the next fucking port.” Geralt growled. He knew it was an idle threat, he would never abandon Jaskier not now he realised how much he loved he man.

“I promise.” Jaskier smiled, reaching up and pulling Geralt into a breath stealing kiss. As they pulled away, Jaskier’s blue eyes as deep and full as the ocean, Geralt prayed that Jaskier would be safe this time.

…….

Jaskier found himself bracketed by Letho and Aukes this time. The two burly Witchers had grabbed him as he and Geralt walked out of the Captains quarters and loudly declared, “We’ll keep the lark from drowning this time.” Jaskier had gasped indignantly, wanting to say he didn’t need babysitting, but the approving grunt Geralt gave along with the worry in those amber eyes made the words still in Jaskier’s tongue. He didn’t want to cause Geralt any worry and he knew if Geralt was worried about him in a fight then he wouldn’t be concentrating on the actual fighting.

So Jaskier found himself standing at the railing. Letho leaning at the side, hand resting on his sword as Aukes yawned loudly. “Hate this bloody part.” Aukes stated and Jaskier couldn’t help but agree. The anticipation of knowing they were about to be in a fight was driving Jaskier crazy as they slowly closed the gap between themselves and the other vessel.

Jaskier turned his eyes out to the ocean, watching as they slowly caught up with the merchant vessel. As he waited he found his mind drifting back to Geralt. Jaskier had never felt this way about…well anyone before. Geralt was the kindest, warmest, sweetest man Jaskier had ever met. 3 words that Jaskier thinks no one has ever said about the feared Witcher Captain before but they were the truth.

The feel of Geralt’s arms wrapped around him, his strength strong enough to crush Jaskier but used instead to softly cradle the other man against his chest as the slept or simply lay in each other’s arms was perhaps the safest Jaskier had ever felt. Geralt made him feel safe. Made him feel loved and wanted. And Geralt had never once pushed Jaskier. Never once demanded anything that Jaskier didn’t first suggest. Whenever Jaskier stiffened or felt panic roll through him when he and Geralt kissed or touched one another, Geralt would immediately stop. And Jaskier didn’t think he could ever be so grateful for that simple act.

His feelings had never been taken into consideration before, even in London Jaskier had only ever been interested in pleasing his partners. It was the type of man he was, wanting to offer his partners love and affection regardless of what he felt or wanted. And in Tortuga, selling his body for other men’s pleasure, well it wasn’t like Jaskier had a choice of what was done to his body. He was being paid not to have a say in that matter.

But with Geralt, Geralt’s first consideration was always Jaskier. And while the feeling was foreign and not the tiniest bit terrifying, Jaskier couldn’t help but love the pirate captain more because of it. But he wasn’t selfish either, Jaskier gave Geralt back as much as Geralt gave him. He made sure Geralt knew how much he felt for him, if by simply telling him he loved him or kissing and touching him whenever he could.

One thing Jaskier had learnt when he had first boarded the Witcher, was that the Witchers did not have love in their life. They loved one another, like brothers but they didn’t know how to show it. Whether the hardness of their life making them unable to show that love and affection or something else entirely, Jaskier didn’t know. But regardless of that, Jaskier made sure to show the Witchers affection as much as he could. If it was the last thing Jaskier ever did he would make sure every single Witcher knew that they were loved and cared for and that it was ok for them to show that affection.

“Fucking finally.” Aukes grinned and Jaskier turned back to face the two pirates. Letho was grinning, sword in hand and Aukes was resting against the railing. Jaskier between the two grinned and swung his arms over either one of their shoulders.

“Patience is a virtue Aukes.” Jaskier grinned and Letho snorted back a laughter.

“Patience isn’t something any of have little lark.” Jaskier laughed at that, feeling some of the tension dissipate as the sound of cannon fire from their ship echoed across the open ocean.

……..

It had been pitifully easy for the Witchers to take the merchant vessel. The other ship hadn’t even put up a fight, surrendering after the second cannon fire. Lambert and Aidan had led a raiding part onto the other ship and after 10 minutes he had shouted back to the Witcher that the ship was ready to board.

Geralt had grunted, watching as the gangplank was lowered and then he, Eskel, Letho, Aukes and annoyingly Jaskier walked up the plank. He sent a glare at Letho and Aukes who just shrugged in answer, Jaskier smiling brightly between the two burly Witchers seemed immune to Geralt’s glare.

“I hate the fucking easy ones.” Lambert growled in annoyance as the group walked to where the merchant’s vessels crew were tied up sitting on the ground and looking forlorn.

Geralt hummed, turning eyes on the group tied up in front of them. Fear was evident in their eyes as they stared at the Witchers. “We don’t have any gold on the ship. Nothing worth stealing just let us go.” The man Geralt presumed was the Captain begged. Geralt turned his eyes onto the man, seeing the way the man flinched violently back. “Please, we didn’t do anything wrong.”

“What’s a merchant ship doing without any cargo?” Eskel asked from behind Geralt.

“We’re not a merchant ship.” Lambert snorted in disbelief, the Captain turning wild fear-filled eyes on the Witchers. “Please, we don’t sell cargo. We’re a slaver ship. We don’t have anything worth stealing here.”

And with those words, the atmosphere of the Witchers changed instantly. Anger charged the air as the Witchers stared at the Captain. Lambert moved first, grabbing hold of the mans shirt and hauling him to his feet, pushing him so hard against the railing the man groaned in pain. “Where?” Geralt growled, moving closer. Anger ran through him, making his eyes turn a bright shade of amber as he stared at the man mencaningly.

“I…They’re…they’re…” The man stuttered and Lambert growled, shoving the man further back so his upper body was dangling precariously above the raging sea. The Captain shrieked in terror as Lambert held him in place.

“Where?” Geralt repeated, pulling a dagger out and holding it against the mans throat in warning. The man gulped, eyes dancing between the two Witchers in fear.

“Below deck.” Geralt grunted, Lambert dropping the man to the floor and kicking him harshly in the ribs.

“Fucking arse.” Lambert growled. Geralt didn’t listen though, already making his way to below deck. Slave traders. Geralt hated them. Hated seeing the state of the men they entrapped below decks. Men, women fucking children. It was horrendous. And these men had the audacity to call the Witchers the monsters.

The door leading to where the slaves were held captive was obvious. A heavy wooden door, bolted from the outside. No way for the people behind that door to get out, even if they were chained which they probably where. There was a ring of keys sitting by the door and Geralt went to grab them, not caring that he would probably fright the people behind that door more than anything else, only caring that he get those people out of whatever fucking chains those bastards h put them in.

Except as he moved from the door to grab the keys, Jaskier pushed past him. “Jaskier, don’t. You shouldn’t see that.” Geralt shouted before he even thought about it. Jaskier shouldn’t have to see the conditions below deck. No one should have to see them, let alone live int hem. But Jaskier ignored him, pushing the lock out of the way and opening the door before Geralt could say another word.

…….

The smell hit him first. The smell of human waste and sickness that knocked Jaskier back a step the second he opened the door. Breathing through his mouth, Jaskier ignored the smell even as it made him gag as he stepped into the room. It was pitch black inside, the only light coming from the door.

Soft groans came from the room and as Jaskier’s eyes adjusted to the dark he saw shapes sitting on the ground. The rattle of chains had Jaskier’s heart clenching in pain. These people didn’t deserve this. These people didn’t deserve to be chained to a floor like animals. “Keys.” Jaskier growled at Geralt, holding out his hands. Geralt didn’t say a word, only handed the heavy weight of the keys in Jaskier’s hand.

Jaskier stalked forwards, silently aware of Geralt following him like a silent shadow. The first person Jaskier came to he bent down slowly, kneeling so he was the same height of them. It was a man, thin as a rake from what Jaskier could make out in the darkness. As he came to unlock the chains around the mans feet and wrists the man flinched backwards and then spat in Jaskier’s face.

“Don’t touch me.” The man growled as Jaskier wiped the spit from where it had hit his eye and cheek off with a shaky hand. 

“I want to help.” Jaskier said quietly, holding his hands up in hopes of showing he meant no harm to the other man. He could feel the tenseness in Geralt behind him but he sent a sharp look behind him, silently telling Geralt to back away. Geralt did so, silently padding back towards the door, amber eyes watching Jaskier all the time.

“We don’t need you help.” The man spat again, anger and rage in his voice.

“Please, just let me take these chains off you.” Jaskier begged. He couldn’t leave them here. He wouldn’t leave them here.

“Why, so you can chain us somewhere else.” The man growled and Jaskier felt his heart clench painfully. No one should be treated like this. 

“No, I…we want to set you free.” Jaskier pleaded, aware of the other slaves’ eyes on him.

“Why should we trust you? All of you are the same.” The man snarled back and Jaskier felt his heart clench again. He was right, why should they trust the Witchers. Why should they trust anyone who must look exactly like the men who had captured and enslaved them.

“You shouldn’t trust us.” Jaskier finally settled on, feeling tears burning at his eyes but pushing them aside. He could cry later but right now he had to keep his emotions in check, had to help these people not break down in tears about their situation. It wouldn’t help them. “But we want to help you. We know people who can help you, give you back your freedom, get you back home. You don’t have to trust us but please, let us help you.”

The silence that followed was tense, Jaskier feeling more and more nervous and apprehensive under the gaze of their eyes on him. And then the man grunted, shoving his bound hands at Jaskier. Jaskier let out a shaky breath of relief as he unlocked the chains around the mans wrists and ankles.

…….

Geralt watched with apprehension as Jaskier moved between the salves, unlocking the chains. There were 20 slaves in total, each one staggering out of their prison giving Geralt fearful looks as they passed. Geralt ignored them, keeping his eyes trained on Jaskier as the younger man moved across the floor. He understood their distrust, understood why they looked at Geralt in fear and apprehension. He had been doing this long enough now to understand these people wouldn’t feel free until they were safely on Cintra with a promise of help to get their lives back.

Jaskier was the last out of the room, hands shaking and face pale as he held the keys in a death grip. “Why would anyone treat them like that Geralt?” Jaskier breathed, watching the last few men and women stagger up the stairs and onto the upper deck.

Geralt didn’t say a word, just wrapped his arms around Jaskier’s waist and held him close. Silent tears tracked down Jaskier’s face as they stood there. Geralt didn’t have an answer to Jaskier’s question. There was no answer.

…….

The former slaves were given a bowl of warm stew and mugs of water. Geralt watched in silence as the 20 former slaves stood in a group huddled out of the way on the upper deck of the Witcher. Movement happened all around them as the Witchers’ crew pushed the ship back out to sea and on a course for Cintra. There were 12 men, 7 women and one small girl who had started crying when she saw the sun for the first time in what was probably weeks and hadn’t stopped crying since. They all looked like they were from Africa, the place most slaves were brought from, and they all were far to skinny. They shielded their eyes against the direct sunlight even as they gazed at the sky in wonder. 

As the ship slowly gathered speed, the wind catching in the sails, Geralt watched as the man that Jaskier had first talked with walked over to them. He had a nervous look in his eyes but he walked with a determined stride. Geralt respected that.

“Where are you taking us?” The man asked as he cam to stand in front of Geralt and Jaskier. Jaskier had gone to help the crew disembark from the other ship but Geralt had kept a firm grip on the other mans waist. Jaskier had been far too shaky from what he had seen for Geralt to let him climb the rigging and help as he normally would.

“We’re…” Geralt started but the man cut him off before he finished.

“Not you. Him.” The man pointed a finger at Jaskier who startled a little by Geralt’s side, standing up straighter under the former slave’s glare.

“A place called Cintra. There are people there who will help you.” Jaskier replied voice firm and not betraying any of the nerves Geralt knew Jaskier must be feeling.

“Why did you help us?” The man asked, still glaring straight at Jaskier.

“We saw the merchant ship, our Captain, Geralt,” Jaskier nodded towards Geralt, the former slaves gaze flicking to him and then back to Jaskier, “made the decision to take the merchants ship.”

Smoke billowed across the deck as the smoke of the fire they had started on the merchant’s ship was carried to them. Geralt glanced a look backwards and hummed as he saw the rigging collapse under the raging fire. They had put the ships crew in a rowing boat, untied them and left them to their fate. Either they would die of dehydration or they would make it to land before that happened, Geralt didn’t care.

“That isn’t what I asked.” The man growled, his English was surprisingly good and Geralt wondered where he had learnt the language to speak it so well.

“We…We helped you because it is the right thing to do.” Jaskier replied, blue eyes staring straight at the man.

The former slave seemed to consider Jaskier for a moment before nodding his head, holding out a hand for Jaskier to shake, “My name is Amare.”

“Jaskier.” Jaskier replied after a moment, shaking the man’s hand solidly.

“Not many men would shake the hands of a black man.” Amare replied, staring at Jaskier strangely.

“No one here will treat you lesser because of the colour of your skin, I promise.” Jaskier answered smoothly. Amare was silent a moment longer before turning back to Geralt. “

“I don’t trust you or your crew.” Amare said, voice cold as he glared at Geralt. “But I trust the word of Jaskier so we will accept your help.” And with that the man turned around and walked back to his people.

“You did good.” Geralt grunted softly, holding Jaskier close to him as the other man sagged further into him.

“I didn’t know what I was doing.” Jaskier admitted after a moment, turning blue eyes onto Geralt with worry in them. “I know you’re the Captain and I’m sorry if I overstepped your authority here.”

“Don’t.” Geralt growled, kissing the top of Jaskier’s head softly. “Don’t apologise. You got them to trust you. They would never have trusted us.” And it was true. None of the slaves they freed ever did, they hid and shivered in fright the whole duration of the trip to Cintra. But this time Jaskier had managed to make them trust him. Not that Geralt was truly surprised, Jaskier was the sort of person anyone could trust easily, he had.

……..

They were 2 days out from Cintra. Jaskier had spent the last 4 days doing what he could to help the slaves. Geralt had dismissed Jaskier from his usual duties, stating that as Jaskier was the only one on the ship the slaves trusted he was to make sure they were comfortable. It was a terrifying prospect and Jaskier feared every second of the last 4 days that he was doing the wrong thing. But so far everything had gone well.

He’d learnt Amare had worked as a tutor to a rich English family in Southern Africa. The little girl was his daughter Lala and the woman whose black hair was braided intricately down her back was named Lakeisha. He and his wife had both worked as servants in the manor, picking up the English language from the people they worked for. They had lived a good life, until the day their 6 year old daughter had been in the kitchen and had taken a small cake from a tray of cakes. Jaskier’s heart burned at the thought that their whole family had been punished, arrested because a 6 year old child had eaten something she hadn’t known wasn’t hers. It wasn’t fair, wasn’t fair that anyone thought they had the right to push the whole of the small family into slavery because of a simple mistake.

Jaskier had spent a lot of time with the former slaves, Amare and Lakeisha acting as his translator as he spoke with them, gained their stories from each one. Most had been taken from their families and villagers. A few had gone willingly, believing they were being given an opportunity to live in the new world. They had been offered employment, a chance at a new life. They hadn’t been told that that life would mean they would become slaves.

Each night Jaskier would curl into the bed with Geralt, silently crying into the other man’s chest as he thought of the horrors that had been done to these people for no other reason than to line some aristocrats pockets. And as he thought of that all he could think was that he was no better than those same aristocrats. His Father was the Governor of Port Royale, his Father allowed slave ships to port and sell slaves on that island. Most of the money Jaskier had lived on most of his life probably came from those slavers’ money to his Father in payment for being allowed to sell human beings like cattle on the island. It made Jaskier sick.

As he stared off into the ocean, Jaskier felt shame and guilt pour through him. He had always been so caught up in his own life, his own troubles, never once had he considered the lives of people like Amare and his family. Never once had he considered where his families money came from. He was a fool. A naive bloody fool.

A sharp pull at the bottom of his shirt had him jumping in surprise. Glancing down he saw Lala staring up at him, brown eyes big and wide and he offered her a smile, pushing away his own thoughts as he crouched down to her height. Jaskier saw her taking furtive glances at Aidan and Lambert who were working at fixing the rope of the rigging. Er eyes were wide with fright and Jaskier smiled re-assuredly at her.

“They’re not as frightening as they look.” Jaskier promised, seeing Lakeisha hovering fearful near her daughter. “Want to see?” Jaskier asked and Lala nodded hesitantly. Jaskier took a quick look at her Mother, waiting for her to nod her head nervously before taking the little girls hand and leading her towards were Lambert and Aiden were working.

Aidan spotted them first, raising an eyebrow as Jaskier and lala came to a stop a few metres from them. Jaskier smirked as Aidan elbowed lambert in the ribs, the angry Witcher cursing and going to smack Aidan before seeing the tiny child holding Jaskier’s hand and freezing. Lala had moved to hide behind Jaskier’s legs and Lakeisha was tense behind Jaskier, eyes darting at the Witchers and poised to grab her daughter and run if need be.

“Who have you got here lark?” Aidan grinned, bending down so he wasn’t towering over the little girl.

“This is Lala.” Jaskier said, gently squeezing the little girls hand as she peeked at the Witcher with nervous eyes. “She’s a little nervous but there’s no reason to be.” Jaskier dropped his eyes to the little girl, bending down now so he could look her in the eye. “Between you and me Witchers are all bark and no bite.”

“No bite, I’ll show you lark.” Lambert growled, a glint of laughter in his eye as he stalked forwards. Aidan grinned, kicking out his leg and Lambert ) who could very easily have jumped the outstretched leg and landed nimbly on his feet) instead let himself trip over and face plant the deck. The performance was rewarded with Lala giggling madly, clapping her hands as Aidan cackled behind him. Jaskier grinned, letting go of the little girls hand and going to help Lambert to his feet.

“See, Witchers are notoriously clumsy as well.” Jaskier grinned only to shriek as Lambert threw their lark over his shoulder. Jaskier ended up with his head hanging half way down Lamberts back and feet kicking uselessly at the other man’s chest. Lakeisha had taken Jaskier’s place by Lala’s side, nervous look on her face even as he daughter laughed loudly at Jaskier’s predicament. 

“And our lark here is far to annoying for his own good.” Lambert announced, dropping Jaskier back to the ground.

Jaskier laughed, slapping Lambert on the back as he grinned. Picking a coin from his pocket, Jaskier began the open chorus of toss a coin to your Witcher, tossing the coin at Lambert as he sang. Lambert growled, moving to tackle Jaskier to the ground but Jaskier dodged away, jumping onto the rigging and climbing a few feet above them. Lala was laughing loudly as Lambert cursed Jaskier loudly and colourfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, it took me a while to write as I wanted to get this right so I hope it's ok and hop you all enjoyed.


	9. Chapter 9

They had dropped the former slaves in Cintra that morning. Geralt had spent the morning with Calanthe and Eist, discussing what they could do for them. Amare and Jaskier had also been present at the discussion, the former slave stating he wanted to be a part of the discussions that would decide his and his families future and Geralt had asked Jaskier to be there as well. The other man had spent the last 6 days doing what he could to help these people, he deserved to be involved in the discussions.

The discussions were short, Eist and Calanthe promising to do what they could to get the former slaves employment and settled on other islands if they wished and returned home if that was what they decided. Geralt had a feeling a few would choose to stay in Cintra, Amare and his family especially were interested in the surrounding and Lala and Ciri had become fast friends upon meeting.

Now they were headed back to the Witcher and Geralt couldn’t help but look at Jaskier. He knew the last few days had affected Jaskier harshly. The other man had cried most nights, curled in Geralt’s side but every time Geralt had asked what was wrong Jaskier had remained stubbornly silent, instead wrapping himself further into Geralt’s chest. 

Geralt had wanted to talk to Jaskier but during the day Jaskier was never alone. He was like a different person around the former slaves and crew, smiling and being his usual happy and energetic self. It had been hard for Geralt to watch Jaskier act as if everything was alright when by night Jaskier proved that he wasn’t. So as they rowed back to the Witcher, Geralt decided that he would find out what was wrong tonight.

The crew were below deck, drinking and singing that night. As Geralt made his way down the stairs, he fully expected to find Jaskier in the middle of the crew as he always was, lute in hand and singing loudly, loud grin on his face. Instead, Jaskier was no where to be seen. Geralt scanned the room, worry filling him as he tried to find where Jaskier was sitting. 

“Our larks not here.” Eskel runted, coming to rest against the wall beside Geralt. Geralt turned amber worried eyes on Eskel who grunted. “Coen said he’s been quiet all day, barely said two words to him all day.” Geralt felt worry clench at his heart. Jaskier was always talking, never silent. Even when he wasn’t talking he was singing or humming or strumming his lute. “I think this all affected him more than he’s letting on.” Geralt grunted. Eskel hadn’t spent very night holding Jaskier while he cried but if he knew something wasn’t right with their lark then Jaskier had been behaving more out of character than Geralt had noticed. Fuck, he needed to talk to him now.

……..

There was a cold breeze coming from the sea as Jaskier stood against the rails, gazing at the inky blackness surrounding them. He shivered lightly, only wearing a thin white shirt but he couldn’t bring himself to collect his coat from his chest. The deck was quiet save for Aukes standing quietly at the steering wheel of the ship. Jaskier was on the other side of the ship and he doubted the Witcher even knew he was there.

A cold wind blew past Jaskier and he shivered again, gaze dropping to where he could hear the soft lapping of the waves against the ship. A warm weight suddenly dropped on his shoulders and Jaskier startled, looking behind him to see Geralt staring off into the distance. Neither said anything as Jaskier’s hands came to wrap around the thick black coat. It smelt like Geralt, like sea salt and Geralt’s unique musk.

“I grew up in London.” Jaskier found himself speaking into the darkness. “My Father sent me to boarding schools and I attended University there. I was a spoilt rich kid who had no idea about the world. I was fucking idiot.” Jaskier whispered into the darkness, feeling tears burn at his eyes.

Geralt hummed, wrapping a warm arm around Jaskier’s waist and pulling the younger man into his side. Jaskier didn’t deserve the warmth and comfort Geralt offered him but he was to selfish to say no. “I used to see the slave ships in London, fuck I used to see the slaves lining up and boarding those fucking ships and I never did anything. Never even fucking thought about it.” At the time, Jaskier hadn’t even registered who those people had been. He had been so engrossed in his own life, Jaskier had never noticed anyone or anything past his own thoughts. “I was so fucking selfish.” Jaskier whispered once more into the dark, rubbing at tears that were running down his cheeks. 

“I never realised how fucking lucky I had it. I just wanted adventures and to sing my songs. I never thought about the consequences.” Geralt was silent as he gently rubbed a circle against Jaskier’s arm, offering silent comfort as Jaskier found himself talking into the night. “I was running from an arranged marriage, a life I didn’t want. A life my Father had planned out. I thought I was running for my freedom, I never even considered that I was already free.” Jaskier paused, thinking of the slaves they had just freed. That was what true freedom looked like, being freed from chains wrapped around their arms and legs, stopping them from wrong. Not running from the chains of family and commitment. “I had a good fucking life and I just threw it all away.” 

“I had a good life to.” Geralt grunted into the darkness and Jaskier turned blue eyes to look at Geralt where the pirate Captain was gazing straight ahead amber eyes filled with a strange emotion. “I lived in a small village in England with my Mother, Visenna. She was a good woman, raised me well. And then these men came to our village. Fuck, I was 13 years old.” There was emotion clogging Geralt’s throat and Jaskier found himself rubbing gentle circles against Geralt’s arm as the man gathered his thoughts. “They were looking for volunteers for the army and I wanted something more than what was in that shitty village. I went with them.”

“A man named Vesemir trained me, trained all us Witchers.” Geralt continued, leaning into Jaskier’s body as he spoke. “He trained us well. Trained us how to sail, how to fight. Taught us how to be the very best. The Witcher was his ship, he was our Captain. A Captain in the English royal navy, he was one of the fucking best. Everything I know, everything we all know we know because of him.”

“What happened to him?” Jaskier asked softly when the silence following Geralt’s words strung out too long. 

Geralt grunted, eyes turning glassy as he spoke. “He was killed. One of the islands, I can’t remember the fucking name but the people called it Blaviken, was causing problems. We had orders to bring back order anyway possible. Fuck.” Geralt growled, hands fisting tightly as Jaskier pulled Geralt closer to his side. “They weren’t causing fucking problems. They were rebelling because the fucking Governor in charge of the island wouldn’t fucking feed them. He was charging them taxes that left the destitute and starving while he lived like a fucking King.”

Geralt was tensing in anger and Jaskier did the only thing he knew to do to calm the mans rising temper. Jaskier wrapped arms around Geralt’s waist, pulling him so his head rested against Jaskier’s neck. He expected Geralt to pull away but instead Geralt’s arms came to wrap around Jaskier, body relaxing minutely in Jaskier’s hold. “Vesemir made the decision to save those people, we agreed. It was the right thing to do. We killed the Governor, killed his guards. And then we gave our protection to these people.”

Geralt was silent again and Jaskier waited in silence for Geralt to continue speaking. The sound of the waves lapping against the ship was the only sound for a long time. And then Geralt finally spoke again. “3 ships came to the island when we didn’t report back. 3 ships filled with armed men, we didn’t stand a chance.” Geralt lifted his head, amber eyes coming to meet Jaskier’s. “You know we used to be a ship of 50. We’d all been together for 6 years before then. We were brothers, family. The soldiers killed us all. We tried to defend ourselves, to save the ourselves and the people of that tiny island. We failed. The Witchers you see here are the only ones who survived.”

Jaskier was silent, feeling tears run down his face anew as he gently rubbed circles on Geralt’s back. “You did the right thing.” Jaskier found himself saying. “I’m sorry.” Geralt said nothing but he gently pushed himself away from Jaskier’s hold.

“You know they call me the butcher of Blaviken?” Geralt asked and Jaskier nodded, confusion running through his eyes. He was aware of the name, had heard it mentioned quietly in dark corners of taverns when the Witchers were discussed, but he’d never thought much of it. Certainly never thought of the name again when he had actually met Geralt. “They blamed the Witchers for the destruction of Blaviken but that’s not why they call me Butcher.”

Here Geralt paused again but when Jaskier went to touch Geralt the white-haired pirate shook his head and stepped backwards, away from Jaskier’s hands. “I was the first mate of the Witcher, became Captain the day Vesemir died. I made a decision that night when we’d run, escaped the men chasing us, to get revenge. We were grieving, we all wanted revenge and I played on that, forced my brothers to become monsters with me.”

“It wasn’t just your decision.” Eskel’s quiet voice filtered from behind them and Jaskier watched as Geralt turned to find Eskel and lambert standing behind them. Both pairs of amber eyes held a level of sadness and anger in them Jaskier had never seen in them before. “We all agreed to it.”

“Yeah, so don’t take the fucking blame on yourself.” Lambert growled, slapping a hand on Geralt’s shoulder. 

Eskel turned to Jaskier and continued where Geralt had left off. “We attacked the island the next night, slaughtered every soldier we found and burn the whole island to ash. No one made it out of that island alive. We made sure of it.”

“So we are monsters lark. Monsters and butchers each and every single one of us.” Lambert growled, letting out a self-deprecating laugh.

“No.” Jaskier shouted, shaking his head. “You aren’t monsters. None of you are monsters or butchers.”

“We burnt a whole island down, killed God knows how many people.” Geralt growled, glaring at Jaskier but Jaskier wouldn’t back down. The people he knew weren’t monsters. 

“You killed people who had already murdered a whole island. You did the right thing.” Jaskier bit back but Geralt shook his head, shoving Lamberts hand off his shoulder as he stalked to tower over Jaskier.

Geralt was 6 feet of pure muscle, amber eyes blazing in anger all directed at Jaskier. By rights Jaskier should have been terrified but he had never been scared of Geralt, of any of the Witchers and he wouldn’t start now. So instead he stood tall, glaring straight back at Geralt until the pirate Captain’s eyes took on a surprised confused gleam and he slowly backed down. “We did what we did for revenge, pure and simple.”

“And you’ve been paying for it ever since.” Jaskier retorted, understanding flooding him. The 3 Witchers all looked at Jaskier in confusion as Jaskier continued to speak. “You’ve let the whole world think your monsters. Made sure that no one in their right mind would love or care for you, when you are the exact opposite of monsters. All of you, everything you do is to help people who need help. You aren’t monsters and you never where monsters.”

“Right mind lark? Guess that makes you as crazy as us.” Lambert grinned and Jaskier laughed, shrugging his shoulders. He’d left his home, left the comfortable life he had for a life as a prostitute. A life as a pirate. A life that could very easily end with him dead. But Jaskier didn’t care, so what if that made him crazy.

“You all deserve love and comfort so please, stop believing yourselves to be monsters when you aren’t.” Jaskier pleaded. The Witchers didn’t deserve to believe themselves monsters, not when they were the people that had saved Jaskier from a life that would have most definitely have left him raped and murdered in the back of an alley.

The 3 Witchers looked at Jaskier with varying emotions running across their faces. Eskel looked at Jaskier in confusion and lambert looked as if Jaskier had grown two heads. Geralt though was looking at Jaskier with disbelief in his eyes. “You don’t care about our past? You don’t care that we’re cold blooded murderers?” Geralt asked, disbelief colouring his voice.

“I don’t care about any of that Geralt because you’re not a cold-blooded murderer. You help people.” This time when Jaskier moved forwards to wrap his arms around Geralt, the white-haired man didn’t push him away. Instead Geralt wrapped his arms around Jaskier to, resting his head in the crook of Jaskier’s neck as Jaskier softly rubbed circles on his back. “I love you Geralt. And I will never stop loving you.”

“Come on Eskel, we better leave the two love birds alone before they star shagging.” Lambert grinned, slapping a hand on Eskel’s shoulder and guiding Eskel away. Before they could leave though, Jaskier pulled himself from Geralt’s hold and wrapped both Witchers in a hug. 

“I mean it. None of you are monsters. Not a single one of you.” Jaskier breathed before releasing them and dropping back to rest against Geralt’s side. Geralt hummed, wrapping an arm around Jaskier’s waist and kissing his head softly.

Eskel and Lambert looked at Jaskier with strange disbelieving smiles on their faces as they slowly nodded. As they walked back down the decking, Jaskier turned in Geralt’s arms and wrapped his arms around Geralt’s neck.

“I’m serious Geralt, you aren’t a monster. You are the best man I have ever met.” He finished this with a soft kiss to Geralt’s lips.

When he pulled away, he could see emotion in Geralt’s eyes a mixture of disbelief and love as his hands tightened around Jaskier’s waist. “And you didn’t throw away your life.” Geralt grumbled, resting his head on Jaskier’s forehead. “You were chasing your dreams, that’s not throwing away your life.”

Jaskier smiled softly, letting Geralt’s lips lock onto his. The sound of waves hitting the ship and the soft whistle of the wind in the sails was all that was held as Jaskier and Geralt kissed each other in the dim light of the moon.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mention of sexual content at the beginning of this chapter.

It was hard to believe Jaskier had only been part of the Witchers for 4 months. Harder still for Geralt to believe he and Jaskier had only been together for 3 months. Fuck, it was like Jaskier had never not been a part of their lives. The younger man had fit into the Witchers in a way that Geralt had never thought possible.

The Witchers were gruff, hard men by the very nature of the job they did. Jaskier was the exact opposite of everything the Witchers were: vibrant, colourful, excitable, bloody annoying at times but still the very best thing that had ever happened to any of them. Before the Witchers had become the feared pirates, they were now, they had once been like most normal sailors. They had always been crude and fighters but they had had lives. Fuck they hadn’t been monsters. But after Blaviken, after Vesemir and most of their crew, their brothers, had died, the Witchers had turned into the monsters even pirates feared. It didn’t matter that what they did was ultimately to help people because no one knew that. All they saw were the violent, hard cruel men life had turned them into. Monsters. And they had begun to see themselves as exactly that without even realising it.

Until Jaskier. Jaskier had shown them that they weren’t monsters. That they were still the same people they had always been, if not a little gruffer and harder that they had been. But ultimately, they were still the same people. The same people who had once had lives were the people in those lives hadn’t seen monsters or pirates but good, kind men. Over the years they had all come to accept the worlds view of them but the longer Jaskier spent on their crew, the longer Jaskier spent showing them all how much they deserved to be treated like anyone else. Well, Geralt hadn’t seen his crew this happy in an age. And it was good. It felt good.

Right now, Jaskier was lying underneath him on their bed, his lips pressed closed to Geralt, hands tangled in Geralt’s white hair as Geralt kissed him. Jaskier moaned softly under the touch and not for the first time Geralt wondered what he had done to deserve this man. Jaskier could have anyone he wanted and yet he chose to be with Geralt. As if summoned by Geralt’s thoughts, Jaskier opened his, bright eyes as blue as the ocean on a clear sunny day looked up at Geralt.

“You ok?” Jaskier whispered, murmuring softly into Geralt’s lips. Geralt hummed in answer, kissing Jaskier in a bruising kiss. The younger man laughed softly but didn’t protest, instead wrapped his hands more firmly into Geralt’s hair. “Geralt?” Jaskier asked after a few more minutes of kissing. Geralt hummed, resting his head on Jaskier’s forehead so their eyes were staring into each other. It was strange, Geralt had never thought it possible to lose oneself in another eyes but looking into Jaskier’s bright blue eyes he thought he could. 

“I…I think I want…would it be ok if we…” Jaskier flushed a bright shade of pink as he stuttered through the words. Geralt frowned softly down at Jaskier as the other closed his eyes and his hands dropped from Geralt’s hair. Geralt moved off of Jaskier, watching with concern running through him as Jaskier sat up, eyes trained on the blankets underneath them and face pink.

“We can stop, you don’t need to ask.” Geralt grumbled. He had been careful to watch Jaskier’s reactions when they became intimate. Geralt was all to aware of Jaskier’s past and never wanted to push the younger man. They hadn’t had sex yet but if that was something Jaskier never wanted then Geralt would never ask him. He would respect Jaskier’s wishes because it was enough for Geralt to simply be with Jaskier. 

“No, I want to continue. I just…” Again Jaskier blushed and dropped his head. Realisation dawned on Geralt and he quickly took Jaskier’s hands in his. Jaskier gazed at him, face a beautiful shade of red as he looked at Geralt through his eyelashes. It was strange, Geralt thought. Jaskier had been a prostitute for months before Geralt had met him but for all Jaskier’s experience he was still so very inexperienced. It made Geralt’s blood boil just to think of Jaskier’s inexperience being taken advantage of.

“You want to have sex?” Geralt winced. He hadn’t meant for it to sound as gruff as it came out. Jaskier blushed again and nodded shyly.

“If you want it I mean?” Jaskier’s voice was quiet as he looked at Geralt. Geralt didn’t bother answering him, instead leaning back down to kiss Jaskier.

Jaskier moaned, hands coming to twine in Geralt’s hair as his legs wrapped around Geralt’s waist. Geralt hummed, lifting Jaskier so he was straddling his hips. Jaskier giggled into their kiss. “You’re sure this is what you want?” Geralt grunted, needing to know Jaskier wasn’t just doing this because he thought it would please Geralt.

“I promise.” Jaskier whispered, moving to kiss Geralt again. “I trust you.” And those simple words made Geralt’s heart burst. No one had ever said they trusted Geralt before. No one in their right mind should trust Geralt, he wasn’t a man that looked trustworthy. And yet Jaskier, who had no reason to trust any man after what he had gone through, was trusting Geralt. Fuck, it was a heady weight to know that.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” Geralt promised and Jaskier nodded, letting Geralt manhandle him into lying back on the bed. Geralt stood, looking at Jaskier lying naked on the bed. His face was flushed, eyes bright with arousal as he watched Geralt walk across the room to his dresser.

“Prepared, are we?” Jaskier laughed and it was Geralt’s turn to flush. The oil he had taken from the draw had been an oil Lambert and Aidan had picked up from the last town they visited. The bastards had been grinning and laughing the whole time as they handed it to their Captain and clapped him on the back, telling Geralt to have fun. Bastards.

“I can prepare you, or you can if you want?” Geralt grunted, suddenly unsure as he came to sit on the bed next to Jaskier. He had never been unsure before during sex, but then his partners had never been Jaskier before. Most of the people Geralt had had sex with had been women, a few men thrown in in his younger days, but they had all been experienced. Granted most had been prostitutes or Yennefer so understandably knew what they were doing. But while Jaskier had experience he didn’t have experience with someone who loved him, with someone who wasn’t just using Jaskier’s body for their own pleasure. Geralt had to get this right.

“I…I usually do it myself.” Jaskier blushed, eyes dropping again. Not in embarrassment much to Geralt’s anger, but shame. “I can do it.”

“You don’t have to.” Geralt whispered, placing a hand under Jaskier’s jaw. “I only meant if you were more comfortable to do it yourself.” A cold shiver ran through Geralt as he wondered how many times Jaskier had had to prepare himself before seeing a customer. Geralt doubted those men had cared if Jaskier had been prepared enough. “And if you want you can have sex with me.”

“You don’t want to use me?” Jaskier’s words were quiet and Geralt felt anger rage through him at those words.

“No. I love you Jaskier, this is about both of us. I won’t do anything you don’t want.” Jaskier looked at Geralt with surprise in his face but he slowly nodded. Acting on instinct, Geralt wrapped his arms around Jaskier, gently stroking a hand through Jaskier’s hair. Jaskier had kept it at the length he had had it when Geralt first met him and Geralt had been surprised to find Jaskier was excellent at keeping the cut even. A fact that had gone over well in the crew, who until that point had been relying on Gerd’s butchering appoint to hair maintenance.

“I think…I want you to. I mean, I want you to prepare me. If you’re ok with that?” Jaskier’s voice was muffled in Geralt’s shoulder.

“Of course it is.” Geralt whispered, letting Jaskier pull away gently. When Jaskier hesitantly went to kneel on all fours, Geralt put a soft hand on his shoulder. “Lie down.” Jaskier looked at Geralt with confusion but nodded, letting Geralt pull him so they were lying down, Jaskier’s back against Geralt’s chest.

Geralt grabbed the bottle and poured a generous amount of oil on his fingers. Jaskier shivered in Geralt’s arms as he gently pushed a finger against Jaskier’s entrance. Geralt was gentle as he slowly prepared Jaskier. Jaskier moaned and whimpered in Geralt’s arms, eyes blown wide in arousal by the time Geralt was finished.

“You ok?” Geralt asked and Jaskier didn’t bother answering, just garbed Geralt’s hair and pulled the pirate captain down for a long hard kiss. When they broke apart Geralt chuckled.

“Please Geralt.” Jaskier whimpered as Geralt gently moved so his cock was ushing against Jaskier’s entrance. He was already hard, arousal flooding him as he pushed gently in but he was careful not to lose control as he gently pushed inside Jaskier. Jaskier whimpered, body pushing backwards at Geralt’s slow speed. “Please…”

“Please what?” Geralt smirked as he paused, letting Jaskier adjust to the feeling of having half of Geralt’s cock inside him.

“Fuck…I don’t know…just fuck, keep going.” Jaskier begged, hips grinding backwards. Geralt put a gentle hand on Jaskier’s hips, stilling hem as he slowly bottomed out. They stayed like that for a little while, Geralt wrapped in the tight warmth of Jaskier and Jaskier panting next to him until Geralt was sure Jaskier was ready.

“You good?” Geralt asked, just to be certain.

“Just fucking move.” Jaskier growled, voice husky with lust, causing Geralt to laugh loudly as he gently pulled backwards and then snapped his hips backwards. Jaskier moaned wantonly at the movement. Geralt smirked against, setting a steady speed as he rocked back and forth.

And then Jaskier stiffened in his arms, moaning louder than ever, whole body pressing backwards against Geralt as Geralt hit Jaskier’s prostate. Geralt grinned, kissing Jaskier’s shoulder and bringing a hand to wrap around Jaskier’s cock. It was leaking precum in his hand and Jaskier moaned as Geralt gently stroked it in the same rhythm he was using to hit Jaskier’s prostate.

“Fuck, Geralt I’m going to cum.” Jaskier gasped, grinding back against Geralt at the same time as trying to shift his hips into Geralt’s hand around his cock.

“Then cum.” Geralt whispered and Jaskier let out a strangled shout as he came all over Geralt’s hand. As he came, his clenched harshly around Geralt’s cock and Geralt found himself groaning in pleasure as his own control broke and he found himself spilling into Jaskier.

They lay like that for a long while, Geralt slowly growing soft in Jaskier as they lay panting and out of breath, legs wrapped around each other. “Well fuck me.” Jaskier laughed, voice breathless as he gently rolled over in the bed, dislodging Geralt’s cock and turning so they were face to face. The bed sheets were sticky from Jaskier’s spend and Geralt could just imagine his own spend leaking from Jaskier’s arse. The thought made his cock twitch half-heartedly.

“I just did.” Geralt smirked and Jaskier laughed, voice soft and bright as he stroked a finger down Geralt’s chest.

“I love you.” Jaskier breathed, eyes drooping in sleep.

“I love you too.” Geralt promised, bringing his lips down to give Jaskier a chaste kiss.

…….

Jaskier whined as Geralt moved from the bed. They had been lying wrapped together for well over an hour and the sudden loss of Geralt’s warm body underneath him was felt keenly. Jaskier moved his head to watch Geralt move around them room, limbs heavy from exhaustion and pleasure. He had never thought sex would feel that fucking good. Had never known it was possible to enjoy it but fuck, it had been more than Jaskier could imagine.

“Hold still.” Geralt murmured, bringing a cloth to gently wipe at Jaskier’s back. Jaskier shivered as the water trickled down his back and arse, Geralt cleaning up the mess they had both made. When Geralt was finished wiping away the spend that had leaked from Jaskier, he moved to the other side and wiped down Jaskier front, cleaning the mess that Jaskier had made of himself.

Jaskier shivered under Geralt’s careful hand, feeling more loved and comforted than he could ever remember feeling. No one had ever done this for him before. They had always just left him lying in a mess of cum, Jaskier shivering from the cold and body in shock over the rough taking. Jaskier had always had to clean himself up, always had to force his uncooperative limbs to work so he didn’t have to spend the evening lying in a mess of another man’s cum.

“Can you stand?” Geralt whispered and Jaskier nodded, letting Geralt take his hand and pull him to his feet. His legs were wobbly, still drunk from pleasure so Geralt gently guided him to a chair and sat him down. Jaskier watched as Geralt pulled the dirty sheets from the bed and threw them into a corner, throwing a clean blanket over the bed and pulling it back for them both to lie under.

Jaskier found himself snuggled back into Geralt’s side, Geralt’s arms wrapped solidly around him and Jaskier’s head tucked safely into Geralt’s chest. Geralt hummed as Jaskier softly trailed a finger over one of Geralt’s many scars. Geralt’s fingers were softly running through Jaskier’s hair and Jaskier found himself relaxing into the touch, sleep taking him quickly after that.

……..

The storm woke them. The rocking of the ships which was always present had become a violent rock and Geralt’s eyes flew open, hearing the sound of the wind whistling outside. Jaskier stirred next him, eyes opening and blearily looking around. Glancing at his window Geralt saw the rain hammering against the glass and could hear the distant shouts of the crew outside. Fuck.

“A storm?” Jaskier asked, voice worried and Geralt nodded, jumping from the bed and throwing on the first breeches and shirt he could find. Jaskier was doing the same and as Geralt threw on his long coat Jaskier was dressed and by the door.

“Stay here.” Geralt growled, taking Jaskier’s arms and pushing Jaskier back into the room.

“I can help.” Jaskier argued. Geralt just shook his head, pushing Jaskier back from the door. Storms were dangerous things even for experienced sailors and Jaskier had only been sailing with them for 4 months. He wasn’t experienced enough for this.

“No, stay here.” Geralt growled, ignoring the hurt look in Jaskier’s eyes as he opened the door to the deck. Wind hit his face, rain drenching him within seconds of walking outside but Geralt ignored it, shutting the doors as fast as he could against the wind. The last thing he saw as he closed the door was the sight of Jaskier staring at him with wide confused eyes.

“How bad?” Geralt shouted above the sound of waves hitting the ship and the wind howling above them. 

“Fucking bad.” Eskel shouted back, shielding his eyes against the wind. Most of the crew was on the deck.

Lightning cracked across the sky and Geralt swore. “Get the sails up, anchor down. We’ll have to weather it through.” Geralt shouted and Eskel nodded, running to carry out the Captain’s orders.

Geralt ran over to the ships wheel, yelling at Aukes who was trying to keep the ship on a steady course to held tie everything down. The wind and violent sea weren’t making it easier for Geralt to keep a grip on the wheel but he kept his grip firm, knowing if he let go now the wind would take them spinning off course.

He watched as the Witchers ran across the decking, tying everything that moved down. He saw Aidan and Axel jumping on the rigging, heard the sharp crack of sails as the wind whipped through them. He could barely see past the rain lashing down but he heard the distinct splash of the anchor being dropped into the ocean.

The Witchers were efficient, they had the sails and everything moveable tied down in record time. Geralt sighed a breath of relief as he saw the Aidan jumping off the rigging, the last of the sails tied back. The storm would pass by in a few hours and then they could assess the damage, for now they were as safe as they could be.

Except as Geralt started to relax, the worry of the ship being torn apart by the storm disappearing, there was a loud crack and one of the main sails broke free of the ties tying it down. The ship lurched, Geralt barely keeping a grip on the wheel as they were spun in a circle, the wild sail flapping back and forward.

“Get that sail tied back!” Geralt shouted above the rising wind, tyring desperately to keep his grip on the wheel as he watch two figures run and jump onto the rigging. Except…fuck…no. He saw Aidan grab the railing and start climbing but the second figure following Aidan up the rigging wasn’t Axel or any of the other Witchers. No, the figure wore the bright blue coat the Jaskier loved.

Geralt felt his heart jump in his throat as he watched the rigging swaying against the wind, Jaskier’s figure clinging to the ropes as he climbed upwards.

…….

Jaskier swore. He’d acted on instinct when he heard Geralt’s shout. He had been closest to the rigging, except for Aidan, and hadn’t even thought about it as he jumped onto the rope and started climbing up after the Witcher. The wind battered him from every angle and he could barely see two meters in front of him. His fingers were numb with cold as he forced his body to keep climbing. Fuck.

Aidan was a dark blur above him and Jaskier forced himself to keep moving. The rigging swung with every buffet of the wind, making every step a possibility of certain death. Jaskier had been climbing the rigging since he first came on the Witchers. He was a natural at it, able to keep his balance easily. But that was when the weather was calm, not in a storm that had the rigging moving backwards and forwards with violent thrusts. Jaskier felt fear claw at his throat as he clung to the rigging. The wind buffeted around him and all Jaskier could think was fuck he was going to die. He was going to lose his grip and fall. Fuck.

The snap of the sail dragged Jaskier’s attention back to the reason he was up here to begin with. Clenching his teeth, Jaskier forced the fear away and forced himself to climb the last few feet until he was clinging to the rigging just above the errant sail. They were a dizzying height above the ship and Jaskier forced himself not to look down at the swaying ship and shouting figures below.

“We need to pull it in.” Aidan shouted above the wind, slapping a hand on Jaskier’s back as he pointed at the rope above Jaskier’s head. Jaskier nodded, not trusting his own voice right to answer as he grabbed the rope Aidan had pointed towards. “Fucking rope snapped.” Aidan shouted as he swung to the other side of the mast, grabbing the other side of the rope. “You ready lark?” 

“Yes.” Jaskier shouted back, tangling his feet into the rigging and grabbing the rope with both hands. The rigging swung dangerously and Jaskier felt fear run through him again as he nearly fell backwards. 

“Pull!” Aidan shouted and Jaskier pulled the rope as hard as he could. The sail slowly started to pull upwards but the wind was buffeting them harder now and Jaskier felt his grip on the rope loosen. Jaskier shouted in pain as the rope ran between his fingers, the sail dropping down. Fuck, Geralt had been right to tell Jaskier to stay inside. He wasn’t capable of doing this, he couldn’t do this.

“Shit, pull it up!” Aidan shouted, fighting with his own sail. Seeing Aidan struggling against the storm raging around them made Jaskier’s resolve tighten and he found himself grabbing the rope, pain shooting up his hands as the rope threatened to yank its way out of his grip again. This time thought Jaskier kept his grip strong, refusing to let go.

Together he and Aidan slowly pulled the sail until it was completed up, Jaskier held onto the rope tightly, legs aching from being wrapped tightly in the rigging, straining against the constant sway of the wind to keep Jaskier from falling. When the sail was finally up, Jaskier hung onto the rope, swaying in the air as he tried to catch his breath. Despite the freezing rain pelting his back he felt sweat trickling down his back. 

“We need to tie it back!” Aidan shouted, moving to take the rope out of Jaskier’s hands. Jaskier noticed that Aidan had already tied his rope tightly to the mast and was now coming to help Jaskier. Jaskier helped Aidan wrap the heavy rope around the mast and held it tight as Aidan quickly knotted it together as hard as he could.

When they were finished, Aidan flashed Jaskier a wicked grin, slapping him on the back. “Good work lark, time to get back down.” Jaskier nodded, legs seizing as he untangled them from the rigging. His whole body ached as he started the decent down.

Going down was worse than going up he found, his whole-body aching and his hands burning against the rigging. Aidan kept a steady pace beside him, moving as gracefully as he always did Jaskier noted a little embarrassed at his own lack of stamina. The wind still buffeted around them, sheets of rain lashing them from all directions and Jaskier almost lost his grip on the rigging more than once on his decent. But someone he managed to get down, feet wobbly as he felt the decking against his feet. 

Before he could gain his balance, a heavy weight had suddenly wrapped around him. A shock of white hair was all Jaskier could see as Geralt held him close, worry blazing in his amber eyes. “You fucking idiot.” Geralt shouted above the wind and Jaskier could only shrug helplessly. “Come on, inside. You to Aidan, Gerd has warm stew ready for us.” Geralt yelled above the weather.

As they walked along the decking, Geralt kept a firm hand on Jaskier’s waist. Truthfully, Jaskier was grateful, his legs had suddenly gone very shaky and he was feeling a little giddy from the exertion. Fucking hell, he could have died, he realised as the wind continued to buffet them on their walk along the ship. He was a fucking idiot, Geralt was right, what had he been thinking. 

Aukes and Letho forced the doors closed as Jaskier and Geralt finally walked into the below depths of the ships, the last two to escape the violent storm. Aidan was already stripping out of his shirt, pulling a blanket around his shoulders as he stripped from his breeches. Most of the crew in fact where in various states of undress, changing into dry clothes. The ones already changed were holding bowls of steaming stew. The whole ship rocked as the storm continued to blow outside.

“Here.” Lambert grunted, passing a change of clothes to Jaskier. Jaskier took them, suddenly noticing the blood on his hands. “Fuck, we’ll get that looked at. Get changed first.” Jaskier nodded. Geralt was already in the process of getting changed but he stopped when he noticed the blood.

“What were you thinking Jaskier?” Geralt growled, eyes wide with worry as he took Jaskier’s hands in his own. Now he was out of the cold Jaskier was shivering and the cold seemed to be seeping into him. “Fuck, get changed then we’ll wrap those up.” Jaskier nodded again and pulled his soaked coat off.

Once he was in a clean pair of breeches and a black shirt that must have been one of the other Witchers, Jaskier let Geralt pull him onto a seat. Geralt took Jaskier’s hands in his, frown mirrored on his face. “I’m sorry.” Jaskier whispered, surprised to find his voice was hoarse.

Geralt turned amber eyes on him and shook his head. “Don’t apologise, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Geralt growled.

“Yeah, our overbearing Captain was just worried.” Aidan grinned, coming to sit on Jaskier’s side and passing a wad of bandages over to Geralt.

“Fucking terrified is a better word.” Lambert grinned sitting next to Geralt, glaring at the wound on Jaskier’s hand before whistling. “Proper rope burns that, lark. You’re a proper sailor now.”

Jaskier flushed a little at the compliment, ducking his head. He didn’t feel like a proper sailor, he’d been terrified. “You did good lark, better than most people first time in a storm.” Aidan said as Jaskier flinched, Geralt having poured wine over his wounds. Geralt gave Jaskier an apologetic look as he started to wrap the bandages carefully around Jaskier’s hands.

“I was terrified.” Jaskier admitted, voice quiet.

Aidan shrugged. “But you didn’t freeze, kept going and you jumped onto the rigging.”

“Yeah, only bloody idiots jump on the rigging in a storm.” Lambert grinned, earning him a sharp kick in the ankles from Aidan. “I mean it’s brave, I wouldn’t do it. But it still makes you an idiot.”

“Oh.” Jaskier breathed and Aidan and Lambert just grinned, both standing up and slapping Jaskier on the shoulder. Geralt had finished bandaging Jaskier’s hands and moved to take Aidan’s now vacant seat. There was a general chatter among the crew and a few had pulled out a deck of cards.

Geralt wrapped an arm around Jaskier and Jaskier felt himself leaning into Geralt’s warm embrace. “I was terrified I was going to lose you.” Geralt admitted, voice barely above a grumble as he placed a kiss onto Jaskier’s head. 

“I’m sorry.” Jaskier repeated, guilt eating at him. “I didn’t think.” 

Geralt hummed, squeezing Jaskier closer to him. “None of do in a crisis. You acted and you did the right thing.” Jaskier looked at Geralt to find the captain was frowning down at Jaskier. “Doesn’t make me like what you did any less. And I gave you an order to stay put.”

“And what are you going to do to punish me Captain?” Jaskier asked, cheeky smile appearing on his face as Geralt fucked his head, cheeks flushing slightly as he grumbled incoherent words. “Geralt.” Jaskier said, waiting until Geralt turned his amber eyes to look at him again. “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I know.” Geralt grunted. Jaskier hummed, letting himself be pulled further into Geralt’s side. As the storm raged on outside and the noise of the Witchers surrounded him, Geralt’s warm weight a reassuring presence at his side, Jaskier realised that Lambert’s words were right. He was a proper sailor now.


	11. Chapter 11

Geralt surveyed the damage with a grunt. The sun was shining high above, the sea calmly lapping at the Witchers hull. It was like the night before had never happened. Geralt’s eyes drifted across the ship, his eyes instantly drawing onto Jaskier. He was dressed in the breeches and shirt he had borrowed the night before. Geralt didn’t think he’d ever seen Jaskier dressed in full black and he hated it. It washed away the colour and vibrancy from Jaskier’s face. 

Jaskier was helping to clear the mess the storm had made. He had a mop in his hand to clean the rain water off the ships decking. Geralt frowned. He had taken another look at Jaskier’s injuries last night before Jaskier had crashed against his side and fallen asleep. He had been pleased to note with the absence of the blood the injuries weren’t too bad. Given a few weeks and they would be faded completely but for the time being Jaskier would have to remain wearing the bandages.

Much to Geralt’s annoyance, Jaskier’s first concern had been if he could play his beloved lute. “I’m a musician Geralt, if I don’t have my hands what would I be.” Jaskier sighed at Geralt’s exasperated sigh.

Geralt watched as Jaskier paused in his mopping, hand coming to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He spotted Geralt watching him and lifted his hand in greeting, vibrant smile splitting across his face. Geralt just glared. He was still angry. Fucking furious really. Not only had Jaskier ignored his express orders but he had then gone and done the most dangerous and stupid thing in the middle of a fucking storm. Geralt had almost lost him, fuck, one slip of the foot, one thing done differently last night and he would have lost Jaskier to the plunging depths of the ocean. 

Fuck. Geralt growled. The problem was he couldn't’ fault Jaskier. He couldn’t be more proud of Jaskier’s actions. Jaskier had acted on pure instinct and done what needed to be done to keep the whole crew safe and stop the ship from being torn apart by the storm. If it had been anyone else, Geralt wouldn’t have been this angry. But that was the problem wasn’t it. It hadn’t been anyone else, it had been Jaskier. His Jaskier.

“You ok?” Eskel asked, concern in his voice as he came to stand next to Geralt. Geralt didn’t answer, moving his gaze from Jaskier to glare out at the sea. Unperturbed by Geralt’s lack of response, Eskel continued, “Damage isn’t as bad as it could have been. We’ll need to stop at the next town and get some repairs done. But all in all we to lucky.”

Geralt grunted. Eskel was right, the worst damage being the rips the storm had caused to the sails before they had got them up. They were still functional but they’d need to get them repaired before they ripped completely, couldn’t sail a ship with holes in it. “Lark did good.” Eskel added and Geralt growled, thumping a fist onto the railing.

“Geralt, you can’t fault what Jaskier did.” Eskel sighed, placing a hand on Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt shoved it off angrily. He knew that but that didn’t make Geralt any more angry. Eskel sighed, squeezing Geralt’s shoulder softly. “The nearest town is George Town, we should be there in a few days all goes well.” Geralt didn’t answer, still glaring at the ocean. In the calm after the storm the blue was the same shade as Jaskier’s eyes. “I’ll get the course set.” Eskel said, patting Geralt’s shoulder once more before leaving Geralt glaring out to the sea.

.......

Jaskier looked at Geralt with a worried frown on his face. Geralt had been standing glaring at the ocean for a few hours now and Jaskier couldn’t help but feel worry gnaw at him. “Captain’ll be alright lark.” Coen said with a small smile. Jaskier lifted his eyes from Geralt to meet the Coen’s eyes. “He’s just brooding.”

“Because of what I did?” Jaskier asked, guilt rushing over him. He knew Geralt was upset with him. The white-haired Captain hadn’t said a word to him all morning.

Jaskier had fallen asleep on Geralt’s shoulder the night before and when he woke Geralt he had been wrapped in a blanket and Geralt’s arm wrapped solidly around him. As he opened his eyes, Jaskier had smiled his greeting at Geralt, whose amber eyes betrayed the fact he hadn’t slept all night. But Geralt had just growled, eyes narrowing and then suddenly Jaskier was being pushed away and Geralt was walking away. The cold harshness of Geralt’s movements hurt and it didn’t help that every time Jaskier caught Geralt looking at him and offered a smile and a wave, Geralt would instantly glare at him and look away. It hurt more than Jaskier thought possible.

“You’ve been at this for hours.” Coen said, plying the mop handle from Jaskier’s fingers. “Need to rest those hands of yours, won’t be the same if you can’t play your lute.” Jaskier looked down at the tightly wrapped bandages around his hands and frowned. They stung slightly but Geralt had reassured them they would heal nicely and wouldn’t even leave a scar.

“I’ll have you know I’ll be back to playing my lute very soon.” Jaskier flashed Coen a grin and Coen smirked as Jaskier walked away from him. 

Jaskier’s eyes settled on Geralt once more before taking a fortifying breath in. He couldn’t just leave Geralt brooding there all day, sooner or later they would have to talk and Jaskier wanted to get that over with as soon as possible.

........

Geralt watched with a weary eye when Jaskier started to walk in his direction. He was half tempted to disappear and lock himself in his quarters but then Jaskier had half of stuff in his quarters now so he couldn’t escape from Jaskier there. And if he was honest, he didn’t want to run from Jaskier. Ever since seeing Jaskier climb the rigging in the middle of that storm, Geralt had felt a sudden urge to wrap Jaskier in his arms and not let go of his lark. The problem was Geralt wouldn’t subject Jaskier to his company while he was still this angry.

“Good morning.” Jaskier sing sponged as he leant against the railing, smile in place but his blue eyes betrayed the nervousness he was feeling. Geralt grunted, eyes drifting back to the ocean as guilt filled him. Jaskier turned to follow Geralt’s gaze, the two standing in silence for a little while. Jaskier had put his hand near Geralt’s and Geralt knew if he moved his hands a little then he would be wrapping his larks hands in his and then wrapping Jaskier in his arms.

“I’m sorry.” Jaskier said, voice sincere as he continued to stare into the ocean. “I know I scared you.” Geralt hummed, not yet trusting his anger to not show in his voice. In truth it wasn’t even Jaskier he was angry at anymore, it was himself. At his complete inability to not treat Jaskier as another member of the crew because Jaskier deserved Geralt’s trust and Geralt did trust him, as much as any Witcher on board. The problem was Geralt loved Jaskier too much to not not want to keep Jaskier safe and away from every danger he could. But then if he wanted that he should never have let Jaskier stay on the Witcher and the thought of that was so so much worse.

“I really am sorry Geralt but you can’t protect me from everything.” Jaskier’s voice was quiet, eyes turned to look at Geralt with bright blue eyes.

“I know.” Geralt growled because he did, however much he wanted to protect Jaskier he knew it wouldn’t always be possible. “But fuck, Jaskier you’re a reckless idiot.”

Jaskier laughed then, blue eyes twinkling as he moved to rest his side. Geralt grunted, moving his hand to entwine in Jaskier’s. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” Geralt sighed, arm coming to wrap around Jaskier’s waist.

“That’s the second fucking time you’ve done something reckless that almost got you killed.” Geralt growled, remembering the sight of Jaskier pale, lips blue, coughing up water after almost drowning.

“Hey,”. Jaskier whispered, moving in Geralt’s hold and coming to cup Geralt’s face in his hands. “I really am sorry. But I can’t say I won’t do something reckless again Geralt.” Geralt grunted, wrapping his arms around Jaskier and pulling him closer.

“I know. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Geralt growled and Jaskier chuckled, pulling Geralt’s face to down to press his lips against his.

“I know.” Jaskier smiled and Geralt couldn’t help smile as well. Jaskier was safe, wrapped in his arms. That was all that mattered.

......

“Planning on playing today?” Aidan asked as Jaskier hopped off the decking with his lute strapped to his back. Aidan, Letho, Axel and Aukes were standing on the docks waiting for him. Lambert had grunted that he’d meet them at the tavern later, Geralt having dragged him into the town to find supplies for the ships repairs.

“I’ll have you know there is a tavern of excellent respite that I used to play in quite often.” Jaskier smiled, blue eyes shining as he took in the small island they had landed in in the middle of the Cayman Islands. He had loved these small islands, would probably never have left them had it not been for fear of being recognised and being dragged back to Port Royale.

“You’ve been here before?” Aukes asked as Jaskier led the way down the docks.

“This my fine gentlemen, is where I was living when before I went to the fine island of Tortuga.” Jaskier grinned brightly, twirling on the spot as he gestured to the loud busy docks around them. Aidan snorted in amusement.

“What made you leave here for a shit-hole like Tortuga?” Letho asked. 

Jaskier forced his smile to stay in place as he thought about the day he had left. If Jaskier had known what would happen in Tortuga he didn’t think he would have run the way he had but as he walked down the streets surrounded by the Witchers, Jaskier was glad that he had. “Fate and destiny gentlemen. Fate and destiny.” Jaskier grinned in response and the four Witchers snorted at Jaskier’s theatrics.

The tavern Jaskier brought them into was the Gold Dragon. A large tavern by the docks, bustling with talk and people. There was a large fire place which the Aukes, Letho and Axel settled into while Aidan grabbed ale and Jaskier went to talk to the innkeeper.

Jaskier smiled in greeting to Rosalie who looked at him with a frown on her face before breaking out in a grin. “It is you, Jaskier.” She grinned, moving to Jaskier’s side and grabbing him into a large hug. Jaskier smiled, hugging her back. She was a large lady, greying hair and a large cheerful smile. Jaskier had spent many nights in his stay at the islands playing in this pub, Rosalie always delighted to see him and making sure he was fed after every performance. Jaskier wasn’t ashamed to admit he had missed the place.

“When I heard you got on that ship to Tortuga I was worried.” She said, voice filled with concern as her eyes roamed over him. “And now I see that your with the Witchers.” Rosalie gave the four Witchers, who were laughing and shouting over their ales in the corner a fearful look.

“They’re not so bad.” Jaskier smiled, squeezing her shoulder softly. “They’re good people.”

“Well, if they have your trust then I suppose I can let them stay. But no trouble.” Jaskier faked an aghast look as he put his hand on his heart and bowed.

“I promise, no trouble.” Rosalie smiled.

“I suppose you want to play then?” And Jaskier beamed in response. “Go on then, the inns been to quiet without your playing.”

“Then I shall endeavour to make your inn a loud and boisterous place once more.” Rosalie laughed loudly as Jaskier walked his way into the middle of the floor.

He placed his lute into his hand, smiling brightly as he strummed the opening notes to Toss a Coin to your Witcher. 

Jaskier didn’t notice the boy run out of the tavern at the end of his song, too focused on the loud applause of his audience. The loudest applause of course coming from his dear Witchers.

........

“Fucking robbing bastards.” Lambert growled as he and Geralt stalked down the alley. They had just come from one of the merchants selling the cloth they needed for the sail. The man had tried to charge them double the ordinary price until Lambert had pulled a dagger out and threatened to cut him down if he didn’t give them a fair price. “I swear, merchants are more pirates than fucking pirates.”

Geralt grunted in agreement, not really paying attention. They had brought Gerd with them to oversee getting the equipment back to the ship. With any luck they could have all the equipment they needed back at the ship within the next few hours and then they could look at leaving this small island. The longer Geralt spent here the more unease he felt.

It wasn’t anything specific he could pinpoint. It was the usual small English settlement. The inhabitants of the island unfazed by the sight of the pirates in their docks. But usually they would have spotted at least one of the islands guards by now but they hadn’t seen anyone. While it put a spring in Lamberts step as in Lamberts words, “those bastards are fucking expensive to pay off.” But Geralt only felt unease.

“You heading to the tavern?” Lambert asked, drawing Geralt’s attention back to his second mate. “Our larks playing at the golden dragon if you want to come listen?” Lambert grinned at the warning glare Geralt sent him. “Come on, you never let yourself enjoy our stints on land. It’ll be good for you.”

“I need to get back to the ship.” Geralt growled but didn’t resist as Lambert tugged him along.

“Eskel can keep everything in line. You need a drink.” Lambert argued. “And you get the added bonus of watching our lark perform.” Geralt hummed, watching Jaskier singing, strumming his lute under the captive attention of his audience was a glorious sight.

“One.” Geralt growled and lambert grinned in victory, dragging Geralt along by the arm.

As they entered the Golden Dragon, Jaskier’s music filtered through to Geralt’s ears. Jaskier saw him and Lambert enter the tavern and smiled brightly in greeting, blue eyes shining made all the more brighter by the bright red shirt he wore. Geralt grunted, leaning against the wall by the table the Witchers had taken. Aidan and Axel were in the middle of a card game while Aukes was eyeing a pretty barmaid and Letho was thumping his ale down along to Jaskier’s singing.

Lambert took a seat next to Aidan, downing the other Witchers ale in one. “Fuck off.” Aidan grunted, shoving Lambert on the shoulder as Lambert laughed loudly.

“Deal me in.” Lambert grinned. Axel snorted but did as Lambert asked as Letho motioned for a barmaid to bring over another round of ales.

Geralt moved his eyes back to where Jaskier was singing. His voice lifted across the crowd, singing a well known boisterous tale of a sailor who had run off to sea to marry a mermaid. The whole tavern was shouting along to the chorus and Geralt couldn’t help but smile softly as he watched Jaskier glowing under the crowds attention. This was what Jaskier was made for.

It made Geralt’s heart tug as he watched Jaskier, wondering what would happen when their lark grew bored of the pirates life. Would Jaskier decide to settle on an island like this one day, plying his trade and singing his music for the crowds. from the glisten of coin in his open lute case Geralt knew Jaskier could make more than a decent living singing at taverns like this. And it was so much safer than sailing on a pirate ship, let alone the Witchers ship.

Fuck, Geralt’s heart ached at the thought of Jaskier leaving them. Leaving him. Jaskier was everything that had been missing in Geralt’s life and Geralt couldn’t imagine a life where Jaskier wasn’t featured heavily. He wondered if the day ever came that Jaskier chose to settle on an island rather than join the Witchers on their ship, if Geralt would stay with him. The life on land, away from the vast ocean had never truly appealed to Geralt. But for Jaskier...for Jaskier Geralt thought he would give it all up in a heartbeat.

.............

Jaskier twirled in front of his audience, strumming the final notes of his lute and bowing low to a round of loud applause and cheers. Jaskier grinned brightly, launching into his next song. He had forgotten how much he missed this. The crowd singing his songs back to him, the thrill of all those people shouting and singing in joy to his songs.

Jaskier’s eyes drifted over the crowd and locked on amber eyes and Jaskier’s grin grew wider at the sight of Geralt’s small smile as he listened to Jaskier’s songs. Midway through the opening strums of his next song, Jaskier made a few quick changes and instead of singing the loud boisterous tavern song he had originally planned he launched into one of his newer songs he had been working on.

A story of a pirate and his lost love. As Jaskier sung the soft lyrics, the tavern went silent listening to the sweet notes of Jaskier’s song. But Jaskier wasn’t paying them any attention, eyes fixing on Geralt as he sang of the white-haired captain who spent his life on the open sea seeking the love he never thought he would have.

As Jaskier finished his final notes, a loud applause went across the tavern and Jaskier was forced to remove his gaze from Geralt’s bright amber eyes, looking at him with the such an intense and loving gaze it made Jaskier shiver. Jaskier grinned at his crowd, noting the tears in the eyes of most of his audience as he bowed theatrically.

His fingers settled onto the lute ready to launch into another song and distantly wondering if he could get away with singing Toss a Coin to Your Witcher for a 3rd time that night, when the door to the tavern flung open.

A loud shout ran through the crowd as 20 guards piled in. “We are here for the Witchers!” The shout went up and Jaskier froze as he set eyes on the man that had shouted. Dijkstra. Fuck. Jaskier stared at the Captain who reported directly to his Father. Fuck.

“Jaskier!” Geralt’s voice shouted across the tavern and Jaskier tore his gaze from the Captain in favour of looking at Geralt. Geralt’s eyes were panicked, pushing his way through the crowds to get to Jaskier.

Letho and Aukes were flinging people out the way, clearing a path for the back exit. Lambert, Aidan and Axel following behind, daggers in hand as they glared at the guards stalking towards them. Jaskier turned to see that the guards were struggling to get through the loud crowd Jaskier’s singing had created. Jaskier leaped off his stool, throwing his lute over his shoulder as he turned to run and follow his Witchers out of the tavern and back to the ship.

But as he turned a sharp punch to his face had Jaskier stumbling and collapsing to the floor. A guard who had already been in the tavern, sitting at one of the tables with a front row view of Jaskier’s performance had stood up and hit Jaskier across the face with enough force for Jaskier to see stars. His eyes watered as he staggered backwards, his momentary pause as he tried to re-orientate himself from the punch, giving the guards enough time to grab him.

Geralt shouted loud and feral as a hand grabbed Jaskier’s shoulder, yanking him backwards. Jaskier struggled but his hands were pinned behind his back. The crowd was yelling, shouting and shoving in their haste to get away.

Jaskier’s blue eyes met Geralt’s amber ones over the crowds heads. Geralt and the other Witchers were being swept to the back exit by the force of the crown. Anger and fear were ablaze in Geralt’s eyes and Jaskier felt his heart leap into his mouth. His Witchers were fighting to get to him, to help him but with sudden clear clarity Jaskier realised that if they managed to get past the crowd then the guards would kill them. 

“Run!” Jaskier shouted, letting himself go limp in the hands of the two men who held him. “Get out of here.” Jaskier shouted, feeling a tear slip down his face as he sent a pleading look in Geralt’s direction. He couldn’t watch him hang, couldn’t watch any of them hang just for his sake. “Please run.” Jaskier whispered.


	12. Chapter 12

“Get off me.” Geralt yelled, struggling against Lambert and Letho’s grips on his arms as they dragged him down the alley. He could hear the shouting of the crowd as they ran from the tavern, the guards cursing as they tried to get past them and follow the Witchers. But Geralt didn’t care. All he could see was Jaskier’s blue eyes, wide with terror and crying as he told them to run.

“Fuck, Geralt.” Lambert growled, pulling Geralt into a quiet dark alley. “Letho, Aukes get back to the ship. Tell Eskel to get the ship ready.” Lambert growled as he wrestled Geralt’s arms behind his back. “And fucking stop struggling Geralt. I’m trying to help you you ungrateful bastard.”

“I’m not leaving him.” Geralt roared, shoving his arms against Lambert’s hold but Lambert just growled, slamming Geralt back in the wall. “Fuck, I can’t leave him.”

“We’re not leaving him.” Lambert snarled by Geralt’s ear. “But fuck, you go back in there you’re both dead. o you think Jaskier wants that? Do you think he would fucking thank you for getting yourself killed trying to rescue him?’’ And like that all the fight disappeared from Geralt and he slumped against the wall, dropping his head against the stone wall.

“Fuck, fuck. I left. I fucking left him.” Geralt couldn’t believe he had left Jaskier. Fuck, if those guards had grabbed Jaskier then they must have known that Jaskier was a member of the Witchers crew. And if they knew that...fuck, they could hang Jaskier for piracy. Geralt punched the wall in anger. He should have stayed. He should have done something except let Lambert and Letho drag him out of there.

“Geralt, fuck are you even listening to me.” Geralt growled, spinning back on Lambert. This was his fault. His and the others, they should have let Geralt help Jaskier. They shouldn’t have dragged him away like a fucking coward. Geralt’s eyes flashed over the dark alley, listening to the sound of the shouts slowly filter into the night and it was only then that he registered he and Lambert were alone.

“Where are the others?” Geralt asked and Lambert rolled his eyes.

“If you’d fucking listen instead of trying to punch a fucking wall I’d have told you.” G early growled a warning and Lambert held his hands up in surrender. “Letho and Aukes went to tell Eskel what happened. Aidan and Axel have gone to see where those bastards took Jaskier.”

“What?” Geralt growled, confusion running through him as he stared at Lambert.

“You think we’d let them take our lark.” Lambert grinned before his smile disappeared. He placed a hand on Geralt’s shoulder, squeezing softly. “I know Geralt. If I could I’d have ripped those bastards heads off for touching Jaskier but there where to many of them. We’d have gotten ourselves killed and probably Jaskier to.” Geralt growled, hating that Lambert was right. “But we’re going to get our lark back Geralt. I promise.” 

......

Jaskier winced in pain at the brutal grip the guard had on him. His feet stumbled over rocks as he was dragged God knows where. That bastard Dijkstra had put a blindfold over Jaskier’s eyes to stop him from knowing. As they walked, or rather the guards walked and Jaskier was dragged through the streets behind them, Jaskier felt fear bubble inside him.

Fuck. Jaskier knew what happened to people convicted of piracy. It was why he had told Geralt and the others to run. The idea of watching them hang, no he couldn’t let that happen. But now that was probably going to him. These guards had grabbed him specifically which meant that they knew or at least guessed at Jaskier’s connection to the Witchers. It was either that or Dijsktra had taken him because he recognised him as Julian. Jaskier hoped not.

The ground underneath Jaskier’s feet changed from stone to wood and he stumbled as he felt the unmistakeable feeling of a deck underneath his feet. Jaskier cursed silently. They were putting him on a ship. If he was on a ship that meant they were taking him somewhere and Dijsktra took his orders from Port Royale.

Fuck. Jaskier couldn’t see his Father, not like this. They might not have ever been close but he was still Jaskier’s Father. The thought of his own Father having to watch him hang for piracy, it made Jaskier’s stomach lurch at the thought. But then a kindling of hope struck. His Father was the Governor of Port Royale. His Father could lift the sentence if he chose. Jaskier almost breathed a sigh of relief before he realised that if that happened then he would have to go back to being Julian. He would probably never see Geralt again.

He'd never see Geralt again either if he was dead. Either way Jaskier was going to lose in this situation but at least if he didn’t hang he would be alive. And if he was alive he could try to get back to Geralt. Somehow. Probably. Maybe.

This all depended of course on if Jaskier’s Father even recognised him. It had been a little over a year since Jaskier left London, how long was it since Jaskier was last in Port Royale, since he last saw his Father. 2 years at least. Maybe a little longer, Jaskier never really visited his childhood home and his Father had certainly never visited him at London. 

So in theory he could still end up dead and his Father wouldn’t even know he was sentencing his own son to death. Jaskier pushed away the sharp pang of panic that invaded his mind at that thought as the guards pushed him down a flight of steps.

By some miracle he made it down the stairs without falling flat on his face. No thanks to the oh so helpful pushing, the fact his hands were tied in front of him and he was currently fucking blindfolded. And really, why they had to blindfold him on top of everything was beyond Jaskier because it wasn’t like he could run when he was surrounded by guards.

Jaskier was shoved forwards and then a hand was removing the blindfold. Jaskier blinked against the harsh light of the lantern Dijsktra held high to illuminate Jaskier’s face. Jaskier blinked, taking in the surroundings around him and the way the floor swayed softly under a feet. There was bars at the small port hole and on either side and in front of Jaskier creating a cell maybe 10 feet across both sides. Fuck.

“I wasn’t sure you know.” Dijsktra stated, voice bland as he stared at Jaskier with intrigue on his face. “But now, you can’t miss it. You’re Father thought you’d been kidnapped Julian.”

“He did?” Jaskier asked, surprise colouring his tone before he could stop himself from speaking. Jaskier cursed himself silently, it would have been better to play dumb until he got to his Father but the new of what his Father had thought happened to him shook Jaskier to the core. He’d never thought what his running away would make his Father think but he certainly hadn’t thought his Father would believe he had been kidnapped.

“Yes.” Dijsktra smiled, a cold hard smile. Jaskier shivered, remembering why he had made a point as a child to avoid this man. Not only was Dijsktra extremely cold-hearted and cruel but he was also extremely smart and calculating. “The Governor waited for months for a ransom to be asked but they never came. I suppose he never took into consideration you playing whore for the Witchers.”

Jaskier bristled under the way Dijsktra sneered that last part. “I’m not their whore.” Jaskier growled, anger suddenly replacing the fear he had been feeling. “I’m a Witcher.”

Dijkstra snorted in disbelief, shaking his head sadly. “No, Julian. You are a deluded naïve child who has done a great deal to ruin your families reputation. You know, I knew you weren’t kidnapped but it was for the best for everyone to believe you had been.”

“Including my Father?” Jaskier asked voice small. He didn’t know what was worse. The man that was Jaskier’s only blood family in the world believing he had run away or he had been kidnapped. In their own way both were just as bad as each other. Either way Jaskier had still disappeared. Guilt filled him at the thought of what his Father had must have gone through all this time.

“Yes. It was for the best he didn’t know the truth.” Dijsktra nodded. “Now back to the matter at hand, whore.” Jaskier glared at Dijsktra as the other man smirked at him. “I have a proposition for you.” Dijsktra started to pace along Jaskier’s cell.

Jaskier turned his attention to behind Dijsktra, wondering if he could run past the man and escape but there were two guards standing at the door and Jaskier knew there would be more above deck. No, there was no escape from this. “I had my men come for you specifically. At the time I didn’t know who you were but the whole Carri bean are filled with rumours of the Witchers whore.” Jaskier glared at Dijsktra, putting as much hatred into his eyes as he could. He didn’t much care they were calling him a whore but the idea of the world thinking the Witchers were cruel enough to keep their own personal whore, no Jaskier couldn’t stand that thought.

Dijkstra just gave Jaskier a patronising smile before continuing. “I was going to torture you for information. I guessed that a whore would know all sorts of gossip about our Witchers.”

“I’m not their whore.” Jaskier growled. “And I wouldn’t tell you anything anyway.” Dijsktra just smiled calmly.

“I assure you, everyone has a breaking point. But torture is a messy business, far to time consuming. If you held out long enough for the Witchers to change their plans, hide their secrets in a new place then the whole endeavour would be pointless.” Dijsktra sighed as Jaskier just stared at him incredulously. He was talking as if torturing Jaskier was a hardship on himself, not the person he wanted to fucking torture. “But as I said it, at first I didn’t know who you truly where. Now I do I have a better idea.”

“What?” Jaskier felt the ship lurch as the crew started to journey back to open sea, fear filling him as he realised he was being taken away from dry land and any chance of escape.

Dijsktra watched him carefully, smirking as he saw Jaskier realise he was stuck here. “As I said a proposition. My ship is on it’s way to Port Royale.” Dijsktra continued and Jaskier glared at him. “If you give us the information we need on the Witchers, then I will bring you home to Port Royale and your Father won’t need to hear anything about these rumours of you whoring yourself out to the Witchers. If you don’t, then I will take you to your Father and tell him your crimes and he will have no choice but to hang you.”

“Fuck you. My Father won’t hang me.” Jaskier spat and Dijsktra smirked.

“I don’t imagine the Governor of Port Royale would have a problem hanging a traitor to the crown or ordering you tortured for the information. You are a pirate after all.” Jaskier didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. “I’ll leave you to think it over. We’re a few days away from Port Royale, you can still have your old life back.”

Jaskier watched as Dijsktra closed and locked the cell door behind him before walking away with the two guards, the lantern a bobbing light before he went through a second door and Jaskier was plunged into darkness.

Moonlight shone through the port hole and Jaskier sat down, bringing his knees up and shivering softly. There wasn’t any blankets or bedding in the small cell. Just the feeling of wood and the soft sway as the ship took him further and further from Geralt.

Tears sparked in Jaskier’s eyes and now no one was around to see them he let them fall. He couldn’t betray Geralt or the Witchers. They were his family. He loved them. But he didn’t want to die. Didn’t want to see his own Father order his death. Except Jaskier knew he didn’t really have a choice. If the price of living was to betray Geralt then he would pay that price tenfold.

And there was still the chance Jaskier’s Father would refuse to hang his son. Jaskier sniffled on a sob as he thought of the possibility of that happening. If not for Dijsktra then maybe, possibly his Father would pardon his own son. But if he did then Jaskier knew Dijsktra would have no problem informing whoever would listen that the Governor’s son was not only a pirate but the so called Witchers whore.

Jaskier sobbed again. He knew his Father. Loved his Father. But there was one thing that Jaskier knew his Father cared for above all else, including his only son. His reputation. And if the price for keeping his reputation untarnished was hanging a pirate then Jaskier knew his Father decision. And the knowledge broke his heart.

………

The Continent was an amazing ship. 3 stories high, canons on every floor. Sails and masts that reached high into the air and kept the otherwise bulky ship travelling at a fair speed. And probably teeming with the Kings own navy.

Eskel had had the Witcher ready to leave the second Geralt and Lambert had returned. Aidan and Axel arriving mere hours after them with news that Jaskier had been taken onto the Continent and that according to the harbour master the Continent was setting sail within the hour. Not enough time to plan a rescue. Fuck, not even enough time for someone to sneak on board the ship and find out where Jaskier was being kept.

Geralt had hated leaving Jaskier there but with no other option had ordered the Witcher to set said. There was a set of caves near the end of the dock which they anchored at and lay in wait for the Continent to pass. She did, not half an hour later.

The night was on their side, the pitch blackness allowing them to follow without being detected as Geralt ordered all lights to be removed. It wasn’t uncommon for the Witcher to travel in complete darkness in pursuit of another vessel and they all knew how to travel in silence. After all, they all knew how well sound carried over the quiet ocean.

Geralt had considered the merits of launching an attack on the Continent. They had the element of surprise on their side and Geralt knew there wasn’t a member of the crew who would refuse to attack the heavily armed vessel in the hope of rescuing their lark. But caution kept Geralt from doing so. It was too risky. Would involve putting them all at risk, including Jaskier. The Continent’s sheer size hinted at how many men they would have on board, easily outnumbering the Witcher by at least 10 time. They couldn’t take the risk. Not when the chances of them dying before they even found Jaskier to great. No the only option was to follow the Continent and rescue Jaskier from wherever they took him.

“You made the right decision.” Eskel grunted as he came to stand at the ships wheel were Geralt was currently keeping the ship steady. The Continent was a speck in the distant, far enough for the Witcher to look like any normal merchant vessel but still close enough for them to not lose sight of her.

“Then why do I feel like I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life.” Geralt growled. The sun was shining, sparkling off the bright blue ocean. Geralt glared at the blue, imagining Jaskier’s face in front of him. Eyes wide with panic and fear as he told them to run. Fuck.

“Jaskier will be ok. He’s brave.” Eskel said, placing a hand on Geralt’s shoulder in comfort.

“He looked fucking terrified.” Geralt growled, pain clutched in his heart. “Fuck, they could be doing anything to him.”

“Jaskier’s not who they want.” Eskel said, voice calm as Geralt looked at him in confusion. “They took him to get to us. The whole of Tortuga knows what you did to protect our lark when one of those pirates tried to put a hand on him. And pirates always talk when they’re drunk.”

“They took him to get to me.” Geralt growled, anger and guilt filling him in equal parts.

“Probably.” Eskel added.

“This is my fault. I should have left him in Tortuga, I should have never let him come with us.” Pain radiated in Geralt’s voice as he spoke. Jaskier would have been safer if he had never met Geralt. 

“Don’t think like that.” Eskel growled, voice fierce. “Our larks the best thing to happen to us, to you for years. We’ll get him back.” 

And as Geralt stared out to the sea the same colour as Jaskier’s bright vibrant eyes, he hoped Eskel was right.

…………

4 days later land came into sight. Geralt had barely slept in those 4 days, unable to get comfortable in his bed when Jaskier wasn’t there. The bed felt cold, empty without his lark pressed to his side, using his chest as a cushion as he wrapped arms around Geralt in his sleep. Geralt had spent most of the 4 days standing at the ships wheel, watching the Continent in the distance, mind torturing him at the thought of what Jaskier might be going through.

“Ships docking.” Lambert grunted, lifting a spyglass to his eye and nodding to the land in front of them. Geralt grunted in answer, eyes focusing on the island.

“Where are we?” Geralt growled. He hadn’t been paying attention to where they were. Didn’t really care if he was honest.

“Port Royale.” Eskel answered. “We’ll anchor in those caves. Send a landing party onto shore tonight.” Geralt grunted his agreement, eyes still trained on the Continent with Jaskier on board.

“We’ll have our lark back soon.” Eskel promised and Geralt grunted in agreement. They would. And if they didn’t then Port Royale would learn first hand why Geralt was called the Butcher for a reason.


	13. Chapter 13

Ignoring the pit of fear and dread that was filling him, Jaskier kept his head held high as Dijkstra led him through the back corridors of his childhood home. He was flanked by 2 guards beside him, both with a steely bruising grip on either arm and his hands were tied in front of him. The whole thing was overkill if you asked Jaskier, it wasn’t like he could have escaped anywhere.

The corridor’s where just as Jaskier remembered from his childhood. Light coloured walls with paintings hanging at intervals, some of landscapes and seascapes. His Father had never re-decorated the halls after Jaskier’s mother had died. Jaskier barely remembered her, having lost her when he was barely 5 years old. But knowing his Mother had decorated their home so lovingly had always left a warm feeling in Jaskier’s heart.

Until now. He wondered what she would think of him. Her own son a prisoner awaiting judgement for piracy. And his Father. Jaskier forced back the pain in his chest at that thought. He couldn’t think about it. If he thought about it he’d break down right now and he wouldn’t give Dijkstra the satisfaction of seeing him cry.

The journey to Port Royale had taken nearly 4 days and those 4 days Jaskier had spent alternating between crying, yelling obscene things at the guards, planning an escape (which would never work) and wishing with everything he had that Geralt would fly in to rescue him. Except Jaskier was glad that Geralt hadn’t. If he had then Geralt would have been killed. Jaskier was under no illusions that that would have been the inevitable outcome.

Geralt was a skilled swordsman, pirate and Captain. The Witchers would have had no fear attacking the Continent, the Ships name which Jaskier had caught sight of on his journey of said ship. But as Jaskier was escorted out of the ships brig and onto deck, Jaskier had felt his heart speed in up in terror of what might have happened had Geralt attacked the ship while at sea. She was a large ship, with 100 well trained soldiers and sailors onboard. The Witchers wouldn’t have stood a chance and for the first time since his captor Jaskier sent a prayer up toe very God he knew that Geralt hadn’t attacked the ship.

Jaskier was dragged out of his thoughts as he was brought into his Fathers study. As Jaskier was brought to a standstill in front of his Fathers old desk, guards still beside him he felt his back suddenly get straighter. As a child Jaskier had always gotten into trouble and had inevitably been brought to his Father’s study for his Father to punish him. He was glad he wasn’t one of the children who had been strapped as a child, he remembered one of the serving girls crying over a particularly nasty welt on her hand after her Mother had hit her for skiving from her duties. But his Father had been no less intimidating in those moments, eyes set in a disappointed face. Jaskier had always found himself squirming under those harsh disappointed gazes as his Father reprimanded him for whatever trouble he had caused that day.

“Dijsktra, I hope there;s a good reason for you disturbing my evening.” Governor Alfred Pankratz’s voice echoed through the room as the door to the study opened. Jaskier held back a flinch as his Father came around the desk.

He had a frown on his face as he looked at Jaskier. His blue eyes, the same shade as Jaskier’s own eyes, greying hair hidden under the obnoxious Governor’s wig he wore during business. jaskier had always been told how much he and his Father looked alike.

“Dijsktra, who is this?” Governor Pankratz said, voice wavering in shock as unbelievable recognition flooded in his eyes.

Jaskier bowed his head to the ground, shame colouring him at what his Father must think of him. The red shirt he had put on the day he had been taken was filthy from days spent lying on the cold hard floor of the Continent. He was glad the dark black breeches he wore did something to hide the stains that were certainly there but there was no hiding the fact Jaskier hadn’t washed in 4 days, his face no doubt streaked with dirt and hair a dishellved mess.

Jaskier resisted the urge to try to straighten his clothing and hair to look more presentable in front of his Father as Dijsktra motioned for the guards to leave. Jaskier’s Father’s gaze hadn’t left Jaskier once as he waited for Dijsktra to speak. “Your son Governor, we found him in the Cayman Islands in the...”

“Julian.” Governor Pankratz cut Dijsktra off, moving around the table until he was face to face with Jaskier.

They had never been overly close and his Father had very rarely hugged Jaskier during the entirety of Jaskier’s upbringing. But in the moment Jaskier was suddenly engulfed in the firm embrace of his Father’s arms. And his Father was crying. He was crying into Jaskier’s shoulder and all jaskier could do was stand stock still, shock radiating from him. He had expected anger. Had expected yelling or a lecture or even cold hard silence. He hadn’t expected his Father to break down in tears as he hugged his son.

“I thought you were dead Julian.” His Father said, voice cracking as he lent back, arms resting on Jaskier’s shoulders. “When I heard you had been kidnapped by pirates I expected the worse. I thought I’d lost you.” His Father’s gaze dropped down to the rope binding Jaskier’s wrists and he turned angry eyes on Dijsktra. “Take these ropes off my son. He is not a prisoner, he has come home.”

“Governor, with respect your son is a prisoner.” Dijsktra replied calmly. As Jaskier’s Father stepped back Jaskier felt himself shivering from the sudden loss of the warmth of his Father’s hold. “He was arrested for alleged piracy.”

“Piracy?” Alfred thundered, shaking his head in refusal. “No, Dijsktra. Julian was kidnapped by pirates, he isn’t one of them. I’m sure there has been some sort of mistake.”

“I’m afraid not Governor.” Dijsktra pressed. “Julian was in the company of the known pirates of the Witcher, I’m sure you’ve heard of them.” Alfred nodded, eyes turning on Jaskier in disbelief and to Jaskier’s shame all he could do was drop his eyes to the floor, guilt welling in him. His Father didn’t deserve to have to hear of how badly Jaskier had failed him as a son. “There were rumours flying around that the Witchers had found themselves...”. Dijsktra paused, coughing into his hand before continuing, “A whore.”

“A whore?” Governor Pankratz interrupted. “Then you are very mistaken. My son isn’t a whore. He is an upstanding gentleman. My son.”

“I am sorry Governor, but it is true. I believe the common term for Julian is the Witchers whore.” Jaskier felt his face burn in shame. He had heard the name flung around in Tortuga but had brushed it aside, not caring what people thought of him when he knew the truth. Now as he saw the disappointment in his Fathers eyes it was like being a child again, Jaskier feeling 5 feet tall in front of his Fathers disappointment.

“Julian, tell me this isn’t true.” Jaskier didn’t speak. He couldn’t. “Then those pirates must have brainwashed him somehow. They must have threatened him.” Jaskier felt guilt well up in him as his Father tried to tie the image of the perfect son he thought Jaskier to be and the image that Dijsktra was painting of his son. “Julian?”

And here was Jaskier’s chance to escape the hangman. If he told his Father that his lie was true, that the Witchers had kidnapped him, that they had forced him into being their...their whore, then his Father would believe him. Jaskier could tell him everything he knew about the Witchers, the way they operated...Cintra. And Jaskier would be free. All he would have to do was betray the man he loved

He couldn’t do it.

“I’m sorry Father.” Jaskier whispered, a tear trickling down his face as his Father just stared in disbelief and anger at his son.

“Julian, you were kidnapped. None of this is your fault. Just tell me the truth, I won’t be mad. I’ll forgive you.” His Father rambled but Jaskier just shook his head, forcing his head up to look his Father in the eye while he broke the mans heart.

“I wasn’t kidnapped.” Jaskier breathed, seeing the hurt in his Father’s blue eyes. “I ran away. I...I didn’t want to marry Henrietta. I didn’t want to live the life you planned for me.”

“Julian, stop this nonsense at once.” His Father shouted, eyes blazing with anger the more Jaskier spoke. “You are being a foolish boy. Are you trying to ruin our family’s reputation?” And Jaskier’s heart sank at those words. Those words which Jaskier had heard throughout his childhood. Every time Jaskier acting like a child, caused trouble, his Father would sue those words to drag a pit of shame in Jaskier.

“Father, I..”

“No.” Governor Pankratz shouted, voice booming in the way it always had whenever Jaskier was a child. He couldn’t help himself he flinched from the voice as his Father scowled at him. “Dijsktra, how do we solve this mess?”

“We need information on the Witchers. They are a plague on the seas and need to be punished.” Jaskier felt his heart sink as his Father nodded, turning anger disappointed filled eyes back on his son.

“Julian, you will tell Dijsktra everything he needs to know. Answer every question he has truthfully. And then I will find you a good match. Henrietta may even still be interested, she hasn’t found a marriage yet.”

“No.” Jaskier yelled.

“Julian.” His Father growled, warning in his voice but Jaskier just shook his head.

“No Father. I won’t betray them. I won’t hurt Geralt.”

“Geralt?” His Father asked, turning his eyes to Dijkstra who shrugged.

“The Captain of the Witchers. Their is rumour of your son and he being intimate.”

“You dare shame this family.” Governor Pankratz snarled at Jaskier. “You dare shame me by lying with...with a filth ridden pirate.”

“I love him.” Jaskier cried.

“No, you will stop this childish nonsense now Julian. You will cooperate with Captain Dijsktra and you will forget about this pirate Captain.”

“And if I refuse.” Jaskier growled, glaring at his Father who looked at him with shock. Jaskier had never stood up to the man before. Had always been to afraid but now, after spending months with the Witchers, months as a prostitute for the worst type of pirate, Jaskier couldn’t feel the same type of fear he had before looking at his anger filled Father.

“You are accused of piracy.” Jaskier could see the fight draining out of his Father. “Julian, you can’t refuse this or...”

“Or what, you’ll hang me Father.” Jaskier snarled. His Father flinched, eyes filling with pain as he looked at his son.

“Julian, I wouldn’t have a choice. You are protecting pirates. They don’t deserve your loyalty. Please, cooperate. We can forget all of this. You can go back to your life. You can live.”

“No.” jaskier said, resolution in his voice as his father seemed to slump further in his chair.

“I...I can’t hang my son.” Governor Pankratz whispered, eyes pleading at Jaskier but Jaskier just stared at his Father with resolution in his eyes. He wouldn’t betray Geralt not for anything.

“You must Governor, lest the people think you’re weak.” Dijsktra stated. “No one need know this is your son. The hanging can be a private affair but if Julian doesn’t cooperate you have no choice.”

Jaskier waited with bated breath as his Father looked between Dijsktra and Jaskier. “Julian, please don’t make me do this.” His Father pleaded once more. Jaskier said nothing, not trusting his voice to betray the pain and heartbreak he felt as his tears ran down his Fathers face.

When Jaskier said nothing, his Father slowly nodded. “Take him to the cells.” And suddenly the 2 soldiers were back, hands digging into Jaskier as they all but dragged him down the corridors of his Father’s home.

Jaskier didn’t say a word. Tears were running freely down his face but he couldn’t feel sadness or pain. No. All he felt was numb.

.....

“We can’t get to him.” Lambert growled when he and Aidan climbed back onto the Witcher. They had hidden the ship in a cave a mile out from Port Royale. Geralt had sent Lambert and Aiden to find anything they could about where Jaskier was being kept hours ago and they were only now getting back.

“What do you mean we can’t get to him.” Geralt growled.

“They’re keeping him under constant guard.” Aidan answered. Geralt glowered, anger boiling inside him. The longer Jaskier was in the hands of his captives the angrier Geralt could feel himself getting. He needed to get Jaskier back. Now.

“We can’t even wait until the fucking hanging.” Geralt growled at Lambert’s words, anger boiling at the thought of Jaskier, his Jaskier swinging on the end of a hangman’s noose.

“Why?” Eskel asked.

“No idea. Usually these hangings are public viewing but word is Jaskier’s hanging is going to be private.” Aidan replied. 

“When?” Geralt growled, needing to know how long they had. How long Jaskier had? Fuck, they should have taken the Continent when they were at sea. At least then they might have had a chance to get Jaskier back.

“3 days.” Lambert replied and Geralt punched the railing in front of him. The metal creaked, a slight dent appearing. “Fuck, Geralt. We’ll get him back.” lambert grunted, placing a hand on Geralt’s shoulder but Geralt just growled, shoving Lambert away. He didn’t need comfort. He needed Jaskier. He needed to know his lark was safe.

“There was something else Captain.” Aidan said, voice hesitant in the face of the anger Geralt was radiating off in droves. Geralt turned, fixing Aidan with a piercing glare. Aidan met his gaze with a worried expression. “There were rumours on the docks, asking for a meeting with the Captain of the Witcher.”

“Who would want to meet Geralt?” Eskel demanded, worry on his face.

“No clue, better question is how the fuck do they know we’re even here.” Lambert growled. 

“They might not know, they might just be presuming that we’ve come for Jaskier.” Eskel answered, eyes dropping to Geralt. Geralt wasn’t paying attention though, mind whirling over why someone would want to meet with him. The obvious was a trap but there was also a possibility that whoever wanted to meet was offering something that might get Jaskier out. Offering a trade. Geralt knew Jaskier wasn’t their real target, no that was the Witchers. The men who had made the lives of merchants hell for all these years. And what was the bigger prize than Geralt. Geralt didn’t care if he hanged. Didn’t care what happened to him, as long as Jaskier was safe.

Geralt growled angrily, fists clenching as he turned to Aidan. “Where did they want to meet?”

“Geralt, I don’t think this is a good idea.” Eskel said and Geralt glared at him angrily. If there was a chance this could free Jaskier then Geralt would take it. He had to take it.

“This might not be about Jaskier.” Lambert grunted. “It’s probably a trap.”

“I don’t care.” Geralt growled. “If it gets Jaskier out I don’t fucking care.” 

“Geralt, Jaskier won’t want you to get hurt because of him.” Eskel placed a hand on Geralt’s shoulder, squeezing softly. Geralt knew Jaskier wouldn’t want him to turn himself in for his freedom but Geralt didn’t care. Jaskier didn’t deserve to be hanged. Jaskier deserved to live. To be happy and free.

“It’s Jaskier.” Geralt growled, pain lacing up his heart. “They could be doing fuck knows what to him. I won’t let him die. I won’t.”

“None of us will Geralt.” Eskel spoke, voice filled with concern. “But you can’t walk into a trap.”

“And if it’s not a trap. If whoever wants to meet can help us save Jaskier. I can’t risk not taking this chance.” Geralt growled. As he looked at the eyes of his crew around him, he saw the acceptance there. If they had even a small chance of saving their lark, they had to take it.

“I’ll arrange the meeting for tonight.” Lambert grunted.

“You’re sure Geralt?” Eskel said and Geralt nodded. “Then we’re with you.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mentions of past non con elements in the beginning of this chapter

“I know you.” Jaskier kept his eyes trained to the ground of the cell he’d been throw in hours ago. He was alone in his cell, seated on the straw mattress as far from the other cell containing 5 pirates as possible. “You, whore. I know you.” The pirate shouted, banging his fist on the bars next.

Jaskier felt tears pin prink at his eyes. “He’s the Witchers whore.” One fo the other pirates grunted and Jaskier forced back the tears on those words. That was what his Father thought of him. That was how the world saw him. Just some foolish, stupid whore. He’d been kidding himself believing he could be anything more than that.

“No, he’s a whore from Tortuga.” The first pirate shouted, banging on the bars, trying to get Jaskier’s attention. “You, whore.” The man shouted. Jaskier refuse to look up. He didn’t need to look up to know who this man was. All the pirates he had slept with during his time in Tortuga were the same. Foul breath, always stinking of rum, missing teeth. A malicious glint in their eyes. Even in the relative safety of the Lodge, Jaskier had still had to contend with the cruel ness that pirates seemed to exude.

“He’s talking to you whore, listen.” Another pirate yelled. Soon all 5 pirates were yelling, slamming their fists on the bar and shouting at him, calling him all the names Jaskier had hated over the years.

Slut. Whore.

All the words Geralt had told Jaskier he wasn’t. Except he was wasn’t he. He wasn’t just a whore. He was the biggest bloody fool in the world. Jaskier wiped away the tear that fell from his eyes forcefully. His time on the Witcher had made Jaskier blind to everything. He had thought he was safe. Thought he was loved and cared for. Thought he had found a home. Family. Geralt. And all of it had been ripped away from Jaskier because he was weak. He couldn’t fight the soldiers that took him. He couldn’t escape the hold Dijsktra had put him in. He couldn’t even persuade his own fucking Father to let him go free. Pathetic. Useless. No, better for the Witchers that Jaskier hang. It was the only good thing he could do for them. Die, and take all their secrets to the grave.

“Whore, how about you suck my cock, you sued to love it so fucking much back in Tortuga.” The first pirate yelled. Jaskier lifted his knees on the bed, burying his face there, trying to curl into as tight a ball as possible. “You mouth was made for fucking boy.”

“Fuck, come over here. Give a condemned man one last enjoyment before they hang us.” Another pirate yelled to shouts of agreement from the others. Jaskier fought back a sob, shaking his head. 

“Fucking whore doesn’t want it.” A voice taunted, banging the bars that separated them.

“Cause he wants it. He’s a fucking whore.” 

Jaskier sobbed, unable to hold it back any longer to the loud laughs of the pirates.

“Enough!” His Father’s voice echoed across the rooms. Jaskier froze, shame curling low in his belly. No. His Father couldn’t see this. Couldn’t hear. Couldn’t know how far Jaskier had fallen. How much of a useless fucking idiot Jaskier really was. more tears leaked down Jaskier’s eyes and he wrapped his arms tighter around his legs. “Guards, take those men out of here.”

There was the sound of yelling and metal ringing as the pirates were dragged from their cells. The door slammed shut behind them but Jaskier didn’t move, head still buried in his knees. He didn’t need to look up to know his Father was standing there. He couldn’t look up. Couldn’t face seeing the disappointment so clear in his Father’s eyes.

“Julian, son...”. His Father started before trailing off. Silence rang across the cell. Jaskier shivered slightly, the cold night breeze flying through the barred window. No one had thought to give him a blanket and the nights were always cold. “You’re cold. I’ll get the guards to bring a blanket.”

“No.” Jaskier interrupted his Father, finally lifting his eyes to meet the man. Jaskier stubbornly brushed the tears from his eyes as he forced himself to sit tall on the bed. He would have stood but he honestly didn’t think his legs would take the weight. “I don’t want anything from you.”

“Julian, son. You have to understand I haven’t got a choice.” His Father’s eyes, the same cornflower blue Jaskier’s were, were filled with sadness and pain. 

“You have a fucking choice.” Jaskier found himself growling, anger running through him. “I’m your fucking son. You’re the Governor, you have a choice.”

“Julian, you made your decision. Lying with...with pirates.” And there was the cold sharp disappointment in his Fathers eyes again and Jaskier couldn’t help he mirthless laugh that forced its way past his throat.

“Lying with pirates. You think I wanted to lie with men like them.” Jaskier snarled. He hated what he had had to do to survive. Hated it more than anyone could imagine.

“Those men.” His Father stared at Jaskier in shock. “Julian, what were you thinking.”

“I was starving.” Jaskier yelled, jumping to his feet in anger. “I was cold and starving and I didn’t have anywhere to go. I didn’t have a fucking choice.”

“You had a choice. You chose to leave home. To abandon your family.” Jaskier laughed then, running a hand through his hair.

“My family. We haven’t been a family since Mother died.” Jaskier shot back. his Father’s eyes turned saddened but Jaskier was to angry to care. Years of refusing to speak out to his Father. Doing everything the man told him, letting this man dictate his life until it got to the point where Jaskier would rather run away than try to persuade his Father to let him have a say in his own fucking life.

“Julian.” His Father had taken on the tone he had so often used when Jaskier was a young boy in trouble.

Father.” Jaskier retorted, more snarled really. “You know it’s true. You sent me to boarding school. Barely saw me. You don’t know me. You never knew me.”

“I know what’s best for you.” His Father shouted.

“No, you don’t.” Jaskier yelled back. “You know what’s best for the family. What’s best for your reputation.”

“And I suppose you know what’s best for you. Whoring yourself out to pirates. Destroying the family image.”

“I...”. Jaskier started before stopping, the blood draining from his face as he realised his Father was right. Jaskier didn’t know what was best for himself. If he did he would never have left the comfort of his life. Would never have gotten himself into the position of having to whore himself out to the dregs of even pirate society just to earn enough coin to not starve. Except...except if he hadn’t done any of that then he would never have met the Witchers. Would never have met Geralt. And in everything in his whole life, Jaskier had only ever been sure of two things. His music and Geralt.

“I love him.” Jaskier whispered.

“It’s not love Julian. It’s foolishness.” His Father said, voice turning soft, almost pleading as he looked at his son. “Please, just tell us what we need to know and you can be free. You can go back to your old life.”

“I don’t want that.” Jaskier whispered. “I never wanted the life you planned for me.”

“Julian, stop being dramatic. You’re life was good. You had a good future. A bright future, you might still have that.” And everything that his Father was saying was true. Jaskier could have had a good life. A full life. A wife, children, happiness. But if he went down that road, if he had never gone to Tortuga, then there would have always been something missing from his life. Something that only Geralt and the Witchers had ever been able to give Jaskier.

“But I wouldn’t have been free.” Jaskier whispered, looking at his Father. “I wouldn’t have been happy. I wouldn’t have found love.”

“Julian, please. I love you, please don’t let me lose you as well as your Mother.” There were tears in his Fathers eyes, something which Jaskier had seen since his Mother’s funeral.

“You loved Mother.” Jaskier asked, voice soft.

“Of course I did.” His Father said. “More than anything. It’s why I married her.”

“I’m doing this for Geralt, because I love him.” Jaskier turned blue eyes to meet the blue eyes of his Father. Tears ran down both Father and sons face as Jaskier continued. “If this was Mother, if you had to betray her like you’re asking me to betray Geralt, could you do it?”

“No.” His Father’s response was barely audible but Jaskier heard it.

“Then you understand why I have to do what I’m doing.” Jaskier whispered, dropping his head back to his knees. He couldn’t bare to look at his Father now, knowing he would see the pain and heartbreak in the mans eyes. Call him a coward but he didn’t want to see that pain in his Father’s eyes as he finally realised that his son was going to hang and nothing he said would change that. 

The room was silent for a long time, Jaskier’s Father staring at his son as Jaskier sat on the bed, hugging his knees and refusing to look at his Father. Finally the sound of footsteps retreating and the door closing shut. Only then did Jaskier let himself lie down, curling into a ball, tears streaming down his face as he sobbed. 

He was going to die. But at least Geralt would be safe

........

Geralt, Eskel, Letho, Aukes, Aidan and Axel stood in the dense forest a few miles from the port of Port Royale. The night was cold, the only light coming from the full moon high above and the lanterns Aidan and Axel held. Geralt hadn’t wanted his crew to come with him, well aware of the dangers he was putting himself in coming here and not wanting anyone else to deal with the consequences if he was wrong. Except they had refused, threatening to tie him up and lock him in the brig if Geralt didn’t went to this meeting alone. Geralt hadn’t had a choice but to agree, or face mutiny from his crew.

Originally Geralt had planned to take Lambert but much to the Captains surprise, Lambert had shook his head. “You need Eskel there more than me.” Lambert had said, in one of his rare moments where he wasn’t fooling around. His tone had been sober as he clapped his hand on the Captains shoulder. “He’s the only one that can talk you out of doing something stupid.” And Geralt knew that was true, which was hwy he hadn’t wanted his first mate to come. But he also knew he needed a voice of reason. So he had relented.

None of it really mattered though, if Geralt was honest. The only thing that truly mattered was Jaskier. Getting Jaskier back safe and whole, back on the Witcher and putting as much distance from Port Royale and anyone who could ever hurt their lark.

“Over there.” Letho grunted, swinging the lantern to were the sound of a branch cracking echoed. All 6 Witchers had their hands on their swords instantly, ready for an attack but as the sounds grew nearer they realised it wasn’t an army of men come to arrest them but one loan person.

Geralt felt the tension in his shoulders as a man stumbled from the forest. He had a grey wig on, ostentatious clothing of embroidered silk which was probably more than one family earned in a year. The such obvious show of wealth would usually disgust Geralt but it wasn’t the mans clothing he was concentrating on. No, it was the bright blue eyes. The bright blue eyes that reminded Geralt of Jaskier. Blue eyes, shining in laughter as he leant against the railing of the Witcher. The same shade of blue as the clear blue ocean on a bright clear morning.

“Who are you?” Geralt growled, clenching his sword in his hand.

The man coughed, hand fluttering to a pristine white handkerchief in his pocket. “My name is Alfred Pankratz, Governor of Port Royale.”

“Governor.” Aukes snorted.

“Brave of you coming out here to meet pirates all on your lonesome.” Letho growled, grinning nastily as the Governor flinched back slightly. “Wouldn’t have any surprises waiting for us would you?”

“Nnnn....no. I came alone.” The Governor stuttered, fear obvious in his posture.

“Aidan, Axel, check to see if the Governor is lying.” Eskel grunted. There was the sound of footsteps walking away as Aidan and Axel disappeared into the tree line.

It was tense as the Witchers and Governor stood waiting in silence. Geralt felt his hand tightening on his sword with every passing minute but he forced himself to relax, to concentrate. The fact that this mans eyes were so like Jaskier’s shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t be making Geralt’s heart ache in agonising pain as he thought of Jaskier’s bright blue eyes looking up at him as he was curled into Geralt’s chest, eyes drooping into sleep, a smile on his lips. No, Geralt needed to concentrate. Eskel placed a hand on Geralt’s shoulder, squeezing softly and Geralt grunted his thanks. He couldn’t let himself get distracted in his regret and guilt. Jaskier needed him. later he could be guilty, could hate himself for what happened to Jaskier. but right now Jaskier needed him to be focused.

“All clear.” Aidan grunted as he and Axel appeared on either side of the Governor. The man yelped, backing away from the two burly Witchers who chuckled darkly at his fast repeat.

“So, Governor, why did you ask to me us?” Eskel asked.

“I...I need your help.” The Governor managed. Letho, Aukes, Aidan and Axel snorted in amusement. Eskel somehow managed to keep a straight face but Geralt could see the laugh in his eyes.

“Why would we help you?” Aukes growled, he and Letho stalking around the Governor who was literally trembling in his ridiculously polished black buckled shoes. Fuck, was the buckle on those shoes gold, the way the lantern lights gleamed off it certainly suggested so.

“Because...because I...”

“Spit it out.” Letho growled, hand coming to hit the ridiculous wig off the Governor’s head. The man yelped before puffing his chest up.

“Now you listen to me pirate.”

“No, you listen.” Aidan growled as Letho grabbed the Governor by the scruff of his shirt and flung him forwards. He landed on all fours, fright clear on his face and dirt covering his expensive outfit. “We have better things to do on this island than make deals with pathetic bastards like you so if you want something, talk fast.”

“Or we might lose our patience and gut you.” Axel grinned, twirling the dagger in his hand. The Governor gulped but didn’t try to get up off the floor. Good, Geralt thought. Letho and Aukes would probably kick him back down again even if he did try.

“My son. I...I need you to help my son.” The Governor’s voice trembled as he spoke, blue eyes pleading as he looked between the Witchers.

“Why the fuck would we help your son?” Letho growled, kicking dust into the Governor’s face who spluttered and coughed. “He’s probably a spoilt rich brat.”

“No, please. My son. He’s going to hang, you have to help him.” The Governor pleaded, no longer trying to hide the pain in those blue eyes. Blue eyes, so like Jaskier’s.

“You’re the Governor, you don’t need us to stop a hanging.” Aukes grunted.

“And why the fuck is your son getting hanged if you’re the Governor?” Aidan added.

“Yeah, unless your fucking lying to us about that.” Letho growled.

The Governor’s eyes widened as Letho and Aukes hauled him to his feet, Axel appearing with a dagger at his throat. Blue eyes wide with fear. Jaskier’s eyes. Jaskier. Fuck.

“Stop.” Geralt shouted, grabbing Axel by the arm and yanking him away. Letho and Aukes looked at Geralt incredulously but they stepped aside as Geralt stood, face to face with the Governor of Port Royale. 

The Governor trembled under Geralt’s intense stare but the pirate Captain ignored, him focusing on the minute details of this mans face. His hair, greying but with hints of the same chestnut brown hair Jaskier had. His jawline, the same jawline Geralt had kissed as he held Jaskier in his arms.

“Jaskier is your son.” Geralt growled. Jaskier had only told Geralt part of his past. He knew Jaskier had grown up rich, had lived in London before coming to Tortuga. But to hear his larks Father was the Governor of Port Royale. Fuck, Geralt didn’t know what to think of that.

“Jaskier?” The Governor stuttered, before his eyes lit up with recognition. “You mean Julian?”

“He goes by Jaskier.” Geralt growled. He had only ever known Jaskier by that name, never Julian, never anything else.

A fond smile passed over the Governor’s face. “Of course Julian would name himself that. His Mother used to call him it all the time.” Sadness appeared in the Governor’s gaze as he looked somewhere over Geralt’s shoulder. “She died when Julian was still very young. I didn’t think he remembered the name his Mother called him.”

Geralt growled, grabbing the Governor’s. Shoulders and slamming him forcefully against the tree. “Where is he?’ Geralt growled.

“Julian...he’s in the prison.” Tears welled in the Governor’s eyes on his next words. “He’s to be hanged.”

“He’s your son.” Eskel growled, appearing at Geralt’s. Eyes and staring at the Governor in front of him in disbelief. “Stop it.”

“I can’t.” The Governor said, eyes pleading at the Witchers.

“Why the fuck not?” Aidan yelled. The Governor flinched back from the shout but he didn’t really have anywhere to go pinned to the tree by Geralt’s hold on his shoulders.

“He is your son. Free him.” Eskel growled, ignoring Aidan’s outburst. “It’s not hard.” 

Geralt growled, slamming the Governor, Jaskier’s father harder into the tree as anger rolled inside him. Eskel was right, it wasn’t hard. It wasn’t fucking hard. This man should have already freed Jaskier. Jaskier should already be safe.

“I can’t.” The Governor groaned. “Julian...he’s been accused of...of consorting with pirates. With you. He’s to hang for that.”

“Why can’t you stop it?” Geralt growled, gaze furious as he stared at this man that was supposed to be Jaskier’s Father. 

“I would lose all my respect, letting a pirate go free.” Geralt growled, fist clenching at his side and if not for Eskel’s grip on his arm in that moment Geralt would have punched this bastard as hard as he could. Probably killed him.

“You’re doing this for fucking respect.” Geralt growled, tense and angry. The other Witchers around him were crowding around the Governor, trapping him in a tight circle and the man whimpered with fear as he saw the. Furious gazes staring at him.

“I...Julian understands.”

“Understands what?” Letho growled. “That your going to hang him for your fucking reputation.”

“The family...”. The Governor gulped. “The families reputation must come first. Julian knows that.”

“So you’re just going to hang your own son, our lark because you can’t let people think you let a pirate go free.” Aukes growled, punching a finger into the Governor’s chest.

“I...I’ve tried to talk reason with him but Julian, he won’t listen.”

“What reason?” Eskel growled.

The Governor was sweating now as his eyes shifted between the Witchers. “If Julian would just give us information on you then I can save him. He doesn’t have to hang.”

“I take it our lark won’t talk.” Axel grinned, pride in his voice and Geralt couldn’t help the pride in his own chest at Jaskier’s bravery. Pride and anger at Jaskier’s stupidity. He had the chance to save himself and he wouldn’t take it. Fucking idiot, even if Geralt knew Jaskier was only doing what every other Witcher would do in his circumstances.

The Governor shook his head. Aidan’s eyes flashed for a moment, dagger coming to dig into the Governor’s ribs. “You didn’t hurt our lark did you because if you did?”

“No.” The Governor squealed, trying to get away from the knife pressing into his skin but held in place by the Witcher surrounding him. “He’s my son, I wouldn’t hurt him.”

“No, you’d just kill him.” Aidan growled.

“Why did you come here?” Eskel asked.

“I...I need your help. Please. I can’t see Julian hang.” The Governor pleaded.

“And how can we help?” Eskel asked again, voice calm to anyone who couldn’t hear the anger in his tone.

“You...Captain of the Witchers.” The Governor turned to face Geralt, face pleading. “Turn yourself in. If you turn yourself in then I can save my son. Please. He said he loved you. If you love him back, you’d give your life to save his.”

And Geralt stepped back, heart clenching painfully as he looked at the Governor. He could save Jaskier. He could save Jaskier. Fuck. Geralt felt. His head spinning as he staggered away from the Governor and the Witchers. Jaskier could be saved. Jaskier could live. Jaskier didn’t have to hang.

“Don’t.” Eskel growled, dragging Geralt from his spiralling thoughts, a hand on his shoulder practically holding Geralt up from where he had somehow come to collapse against a tree.

“I have to.” Geralt whispered, voice filled with pain as he looked at Eskel with pleading eyes. “Take the crew as far from here as you can, don’t look back.”

“And you and Jaskier?” Eskel growled.

“Jaskier will be safe. I’ll turn myself in, Jaskier can have his life back. A life he deserves.” Geralt whispered. After everything Jaskier had been through he deserved a chance at a decent life. At a safe life.

“You’ll hang.” Eskel growled. Geralt didn’t answer, he didn’t care. Not if it meant Jaskier would be safe. “You think Jaskier will just stand and watch that happen. You think we will.”

“I’m giving you a direct order.” Geralt growled, standing straight and glaring at Eskel. “Leave. With the crew. Now.”

“With respect, Captain.” Eskel growled. “No.”

“I have to save him.” Geralt glared at Eskel. “I don’t care if I die.”

“Jaskier will.” Eskel growled. “What do you think our lark will think if you die for him, you’ll be hurting him.”

“But he’ll be alive.” Jaskier would survive heartbreak, he wouldn’t survive a broken neck.

“He’ll die.” Eskel growled. “If you think Jaskier will agree to what that bastard he calls a Father says you’re a fool Geralt and you aren’t a fool. Jaskier will fight to free you, will either get himself killed trying to stop you hanging or get himself hanged alongside you.” Eskel grabbed Geralt’s shoulders, shoving him against a tree and pinning his amber eyes on Geralt. “If you do this we lose you both. I will not leave you for that.”

“I can’t lose him Eskel.” Geralt whispered, pain clenching in his heart. “I have to try.”

“No, Geralt. If you do this it leads to yours and Jaskier’s deaths.”

“Then what the fuck do I do? I can’t leave him Eskel. I love him.”

Eskel didn’t respond, instead turning around to glare daggers at the Governor. The man trembled as Eskel stalked forwards, slamming him against a tree with more anger than the usually calm first mate had ever exhibited. 

“You will help us.” Eskel snarled.

“I...I can’t.” The Governor replied before shrieking in fear as. Eskel pressed a knife to his throat.

“You will help us free Jaskier. Not because you are his Father because if that meant a fucking damn to you then you would have fucking done it already.” Eskel snarled, the Governor whimpering, eyes closed as the knife dug into his throat, a thin line of blood red appearing at his throat.

“You can’t get into the jail. It’s to well guarded.” The Governor whimpered.

“Then you will get us in.” Eskel snarled. “You will get us the means to get to Jaskier.”

“How?” The Governor wailed as Eskel dug the knife further into the man’s throat. Any deeper and he would be slicing the Governor’s throat completely, killing the man. 

“You will get us uniforms. Permission to be at the hanging. I don’t fucking care how you do it but you will do it.” Eskel snarled. “And if you don’t, then I will drag you’re pathetic arse back to our ship and give let the Witchers decide what to do with you. Believe me, they will not be as gracious as I am being.”

“To fucking right we won’t.” Letho added.

“I...what will happen to Julian?” The Governor stammered.

“We will save him.” Eskel turned eyes to Geralt, a promise in those words before turning back to glaring at the Governor. “And he will come with us.”

“He’s me son.” The Governor whispered.

“If he was your son he would be free now.” Eskel growled before pulling the knife front he Governor’s throat and shoving him to the floor. The Governor whimpered in fear. “You have until nightfall tomorrow to get word to us. If I hear nothing the Witchers will storm your prison, free Jaskier ourselves and drag you kicking and screaming from your home.”

“Why not free Julian yourselves now?” The Governor asked, voice tentative.

“Because it would mean causalities to my crew. And our lark wouldn’t want that.” Eskel finished, eyes flashing to Aidan and Axel. “Make sure the Governor gets home safely, we’ll need him alive to get Jaskier out of this.” Aidan and Axel nodded, grinning as they each grabbed one of the Governor’s arms and hauled him to his feet before dragging him away into the darkness.

Geralt moved to stand by Eskel, placing a hand on Eskel’s shoulder. “You think this will work?” Eskel asked.

“I don’t know Geralt. But...there’s no other way.”

“Eskel’s right, Captain.” Letho answered, he and Aukes coming to stand by Geralt’s shoulder. “We can’t lose you as well as our lark.”

“We’ll get our lark back, he’s too strong to let those bastards kill him.” Aukes added, a grin on his face but fear in his eyes.

As Geralt stood surrounded by his crew, all he could do was hope they were right. Because if they weren’t, Geralt wouldn’t be able to live with himself. Not if lost Jaskier.


	15. Chapter 15

“You made the right decision.” Eskel grunted as Geralt continued to glare out across the bay towards Port Royale. His hands clenched around the railing.

“Jaskier wouldn’t want you getting yourself killed.” Lambert added but Geralt wasn’t listening. 

They’d been repeating these words since the previous night when they’d returned to the Witcher. Fuck, that was over 12 hours ago. 12 jacking more hours that Jaskier was being held captive. Fuck knows what was happening to him, if he was hurt, if he scared. Of course he was scared. He’d been imprisoned, was going to hang. Was going to fucking hang tomorrow morning if they didn’t do something to save him.

Geralt’s hand clenched the railing harder, anger pouring off him as he willed Aidan and Axel to the Witcher. They’d follow the Governor the previous night. Followed Jaskier’s Father, who was the Governor of Port Royale, who was going to let his son die. Geralt growled angrily. What was Jaskier thinking. The damned fool should have given them up, saved himself. Fuck, gotten the life he’d given up back. If Jaskier was the son of a Governor then he was used to fancy expensive things. Not some old fucking ship, not crude pirates. Not the Witchers. Not Geralt.

“Geralt.” Eskel’s voice was filled with worry as he placed a hand on Geralt’s shoulder.

Geralt growled, flinging the hand away and stalking along the decking to the ships wheel. They were anchored, hidden in a cave so they weren’t moving but Geralt always felt calm wash over him when he held the ships wheel in his hands, felt the way his ship moved under him. Except it was all wrong. It was all fucking wrong because Jaskier wasn’t here. Jaskier was probably going to die.

Lambert and Eskel shared concerned looks as they watched their Captain continue to glare straight ahead at Port Royale, as if that would miraculously bring Jaskier back to them. “We need a plan.” Eskel stated. 

“I have a fucking plan.” Geralt growled.

“It’s fucking suicide.” Lambert growled back.

“Jaskier wouldn’t want you to sacrifice yourself getting him back.” Eskel sighed but Geralt wasn’t listening. He should have done it last night. Shouldn’t have let Eskel talk him out of it. Should have gone with the Governor and let them do whatever the fuck they wanted to him. Should have saved Jaskier.

“Don’t be a fucking idiot.” Lambert added and Geralt felt the anger bubble up as he turned to meet Lambert growling angrily.

“I don’t fucking care.” Geralt shouted, fists clenched at his side, amber eyes blazing with white hot rage. The ship which had been held the quiet lull of the Witchers at work being silent as all eyes turned to their Captain. “I don’t fucking care what happens to me as long as he’s safe.”

“We do.” Eskel spoke, voice as calm as always even in the face of their Captain’s anger. “And Jaskier would care as well.”

“Yeah, Eskel was right. Our larks stupid enough to piss those bastards off enough to get himself hanged right alongside you and then we’d just have to risk our necks to save both of you.” Lambert grinned, clapping a hand on Geralt’s shoulder but his eyes were filled with the same pain that all the Witchers had been feeling since Jaskier had been taken.

Geralt felt himself slump, the anger disappearing as quickly as it came. He knew they were right. Logically he knew charging into the Governor’s home and handing himself over wouldn’t help Jaskier. But he couldn’t just sit here and do nothing when Jaskier was locked up. He couldn’t just wait for Jaskier to die.

“I use don’t understand why he wouldn’t save himself.” Geralt whispered. 

“Because he’s Jaskier.” Eskel said as if that explained everything.

“He had everything Eskel.” Geralt whispered, eyes looking at Eskel pleadingly. “He had a good life, money. Fuck, he’s the son of a fucking Governor. He could have anything he wanted so why did he choose us. Why is he still choosing us?”

“He didn’t leave his home because of us.” Eskel spoke. Geralt was distantly aware of all the eyes and ears of the crew on them, listening to what was being said. “He left his home for whatever reason he did and ended up with us because of it. Call it destiny or whatever the fuck you want. What matters is Jaskier is our lark and we will get him back.”

Geralt ran a hand through his hair as he nodded. “We don’t deserve him.” 

“No.” Eskel confirmed, squeezing Geralt’s shoulder. “We don’t.”

........

Aidan and Axel returned just as the suns as beginning to set. “What the fucks that?” Lambert asked, pointing at the pile of uniforms the 2 Witchers had hauled back onto the ship with them.

“That is what that fucker thinks will save Jaskier.” Aidan growled. Axel had his arms crossed, glare directed back towards the port.

“What the fuck, there’s barely anything there.” Lambert growled as he picked up a uniform blazer and threw it at Aukes.

Aidan growled, “that bastard said if we turn up in those we’ll get through the gates to the hanging.”

“And then what?” Lambert growled, “let them hang us with Jaskier.”

There was a rumble of anger around the crew as they looked at the 3 uniforms Aidan and Axel had come back with. “3 Witchers is better than nothing.” Coen pointed out but his voice was filled with the same anger and disappointment that the rest of the crew felt.

“Yeah, 3 Witchers against a fucking army because those bastards will expect us to try something and they’ll be waiting.” Lambert growled, stalking across the deck angrily. “I bet that fucking Governor did this just to get us killed.”

“I vote we attack Port Royale. Kill that bastard and free Jaskier our way.” Aidan shouted over the increasing murmurs of the crew. There was a loud cheer of yes as Eskel turned to Geralt with pain in his eyes.

“Fuck, Geralt. I’m sorry. I thought...”. Eskel started but Geralt wasn’t listening, eyes dropping to the uniforms as his mind ran over plans. 3 Witchers to free Jaskier wasn’t a lot, not in the face of the large number of men they would surely have but...maybe. With the right distraction.

“Captain, we’ll get the ship ready to go into port, fight our way into that shit hole of a town.” Lambert said, face determined. As Geralt looked at all his crew he saw the determination in their eyes. They would do that. They would risk almost certain death to try and free Jaskier and Geralt would let them except...except the Witchers were his crew, his family and no matter how much he wanted Jaskier safe, however much he wanted to save the man he loved he wouldn’t sacrifice his family to do that. Jaskier wouldn’t want him to.

“No.” Geralt spoke, voice quiet but the whole crew heard him.

“Then what do we do?” Letho shouted.

“We can’t leave our lark there Captain.” Coen spoke and Geralt shook his head. He has no intention of abandoning Jaskier to his fate. 

“Geralt?’ Eskel spoke, voice a question and eyes filled with concern. “You can’t turn yourself in. It won’t help Jaskier, you know that.” And Geralt did. It was to much of a risk. Jaskier’s Father obviously didn’t care enough about his son if this pathetic pile of clothes was his idea of helping so there was no guarantee he would keep his end of the deal if Geralt turned himself in.

“I have a plan.” Geralt spoke, eyes moving from the uniforms to look at his crew. “It’s a risk and may not work. I won’t ask anyone to help if they don’t want to.”

“Like fuck we don’t.” Lambert shouted to the agreed shouting of the crew. “He’s our lark to Geralt, we’re not leaving him.”

Geralt hummed, looking at the crew in front of him. They all shared the same determined look Geralt felt and for the first time since Jaskier had been taken Geralt felt a kindling of hope. They would get Jaskier out of this. They had.

......

A few hours before dawn the crew was assembled on deck. Letho, Aukes and Geralt were dressed in the stolen uniforms. Lambert, Aidan, Axel, Gerd, Coen and one of the quieter Witchers named Aubrey stood by the dingy’s, all dressed in black and armed to the teeth.

The rest of the crew stood on the decks, apprehension on their faces. “You’re sure you don’t need me.” Eskel spoke, clapping a hand on Geralt’s shoulder as Aidan and Axel worked at getting the dingy’s in the water. “They need you more.” Geralt spoke, eyes drifting to the crew before settling on Eskel. “If we don’t make it back you get them out of here. Hide. Go to Cintra.”

“I won’t abandon you.” Eskel growled. Geralt moved his hand to slaps Eskel’s shoulder and smiled. He and Eskel had been together for years. Friends, brothers even. There wasn’t a soul Geralt trusted more than the scarred Witcher.

“I’m not asking you to.” Geralt grunted. “I’m asking you to keep the others safe. There isn’t anyone I trust more with that.” Before Eskel could speak a word Geralt grunted, squeezed his shoulder again and followed the others to the dingy.

It was 2 hours to until dawn. 2 hours until Jaskier was going to hang. As the Witchers started on the oars, Geralt felt the familiar wave of Adrenalin flood through him.

........

Jaskier hadn’t slept all night. He didn’t know where the pirates from before his Father’s visit had gone but they had never returned, leaving Jaskier alone. As the sun had set on the day before his execution, Jaskier had felt a spurt of calm fill him. There was nothing he could do to stop this. he was going to die. And while the thought filled him with absolute dread and fear, Jaskier had expected what was going to happen to him.

Rather than dwelling on the knowledge of his impending death, Jaskier found his mind wandering before settling on the memory of his first meeting with Geralt. He remembered the pirate Captain, kind and a bit gruff around the edges, paying for a night of just talking. Nothing more. Jaskier felt a soft smile come onto his face as he thought of Geralt. He hoped he was safe somewhere. Hoped all the Witchers were safe and far far away from Port Royale. They deserved to live. To live a free and happy life, not the cruel one fate had dealt them. 

As 4 guards stood outside his cell door, Jaskier tried to keep the image of Geralt’s face in his mind. Geralt smiling, amber eyes pools of warmth as he looked down at Jaskier, kissed him softly. Of the warmth that spread through Jaskier as he laid atop Geralt, gently running circles down Geralt’s chest. The feeling of security as Geralt’s arms wrapped tight around his waist, holding him close. The feeling of belonging as he sat in the Witchers galley, laughing and playing cards with Lambert and Aidan. The feeling of happiness and joy as he strummed his lute and sang the songs the Witchers asked him to. Jaskier had never been so happy before boarding the Witcher in his whole life. If his death was the price to pay for knowing those men, of being their friends, of loving Geralt, then Jaskier would pay it gladly.

The soldiers grabbed his arms and roughly bound his hands together with a rough piece of rope. Jaskier didn’t struggle, after all what was the point. Even if he could overpower 4 soldiers where would he go. Home? No, there was nothing he could do now except accept his fate.

He wasn’t aware of being led along the dark corridors. The 4 guards flanked him at all sides and Jaskier pushed aside the fear and nerves running through him. He wouldn’t be afraid. He wouldn’t show them his fear. No Jaskier would die with his head held high.

The sun was blinding as Jaskier was led through the open doors into a large courtyard. The square was filled, soldiers lining the cobbled floor and a large scaffold in the middle of the square. Jaskier swallowed back the lump in his throat as he was prodded in the back by one of the guards to move him along.

Jaskier kept his head facing forwards, unable to face looking at the men around him. The silence in the square was deafening and Jaskier found himself humming softly as he walked. The song was of a sailor who had fallen in love with a mermaid, the berry same song he had sang to Geralt the first night they met. Tears stung at Jaskier’s eyes at the thought as he was led up the steps onto the scaffold.

Hands roughly grabbed Jaskier’s shoulders, yanking him into position. Jaskier started to sing the familiar words of the song, focusing on the lyrics rather than the rising panic as a heavy rope was placed over his head and settled on his neck. A tear ran unbid down his cheek but as the solder is stepped back, giving Jaskier a clear view of the last sight he would ever see.

His eyes roamed over the soldiers, searching for the familiar face of his Father. Except his Father wasn’t there. Jaskier didn’t know whether to feel released or angry at that fact so he settled on indifferent. None of it really mattered, he was going to die either way. He felt the last notes of his song fade away as steps made their way up the scaffold next to him.

“Last chance, whore.” Dijsktra came to stand in front of Jaskier, eyes glaring down at the bard who couldn’t help but smirk up at the man. Dijsktra had counted on Jaskier betraying the Witchers. He hadn’t expected Jaskier to withstand the threat of death and now stood on the scaffold, a rope around his neck knowing in a few minutes he was going to die, Dijsktra still expected Jaskier to betray the Witchers, his Witchers. “Tell me what I want to know and I will let you live.”

Jaskier smiled, a viscous deranged sort of smile as his eyes traveled up to see the blue shining sky. “Fuck you.”

Dijsktra growled, turning around and opened his mouth to speak when the sound of a loud explosion filled the air. Jaskier blinked in surprise as the sound of screams and shouting filled the air. The soldiers in the square were running towards the entrances, pulling their weapons out as a thick black choke appeared in the sky.

A shout from below and Jaskier found his eyes drawn to a solider who was suddenly dropping dead to the floor. A man dressed in the red uniform of the Kings men looked up at jaskier and winked and jaskier let out a strangled choked sort of laugh. Letho. A clang of steel in the other direction and Jaskier saw Aukes battling 3 soldiers, his actions almost lazy as he easily deflected to blows of his assailants.

“Jaskier!” The sound of his name being shouted with the force of a raging bull had Jaskier’s eyes moving from were Aukes was fighting to a figure with white hair, running towards the scaffold. Amber eyes blazed in anger as Jaskier’s met eyes with Geralt. His heart was thudding in his chest as he felt a fear gripped his chest. The square was nearly empty of soldiers but there was still enough for Geralt to have to fight his way to Jaskier.

But as Geralt parried a blow from an oncoming solider jaskier didn’t have time to think about the consequences of Geralt being here. Didn’t have to time to think past the fear that Geralt might get hurt as a our shout was followed by a bang and Jaskier felt his feet fall through thin air.

A sharp tug at his neck and Jaskier’s hands scrabbled uselessly at the rope around his neck. The rope slowly choking his life away.


	16. Chapter 16

“No!” Geralt shouted, pushing away the solider that had thrown himself at Geralt’s sword as he watched Dijsktra stagger up the scaffold steps, pushing aside the would-be executioner and wrap his hand around the lever that would leave Jaskier dead.

Geralt fought with unchecked fury, desperately trying to get close to Jaskier as a loud bang echoed across the square. From the corner of his eye he saw Letho use the gun he had just used to shoot Dijsktra to club the soldier coming towards him. Geralt felt his heart in his mouth as he took down the next soldier in front of him, mere steps from the scaffold. Blood poured from the gunshot wound in Dijsktra’s chest. He’d be dead in minutes. But right now he was alive with his hand still around the lever.

Geralt’s foot hit the first step as he heard the sound of the trap door under Jaskier’s feet thunk open. A choked cry of pain ran through Geralt as he ran up the stairs, killing the only soldier still left on the scaffold to stop him in seconds. Acting on pure instinct, Geralt pulled his sword back and cut through the rope choking Jaskier’s life from him in one movement.

A sharp thud from below had Geralt’s heart hammering as pain and fear filled him. He jumped from the scaffold, landing on his knees and rolling in the dust before clambering to his feet in panic as he ran to where Jaskier’s limp body was lying under the scaffold.

“No.” Geralt breathed, throwing himself onto the ground and cradling Jaskier’s body against his. Jaskier’s face was bright red, neck bloody from where the rope had cut into the delicate skin.. Blue eyes staring up at Geralt, confusion filling them as Jaskier shivered in his hands. Choking on a cough which had Jaskier’s whole body shuddering in Geralt’s hold.

Geralt grabbed the rope, gently as he could as he pulled the retched thing from Jaskier’s neck. Jaskier retched, breathing coming out in panicked harsh gasps. “Fuck Jask, breathe.” Geralt swore as he saw the panic in Jaskier’s face. Tears ran down Jaskier’s bright red face, body shivering from the effort it took to draw in a breath. “Come on Jask, breathe. Please.”

Geralt rubbed gentle circles on Jaskier’s back as the bard finally took in a choked ragged breath. And then another and another before his breathing was no longer coming out in panicked gasping chokes. Geralt felt a relief course through him, ducking his head to rest lightly on Jaskier’s chest as he held Jaskier closer to him.

“G’ralt?” Jaskier choked and Geralt felt himself choke on a laugh, tightening his hold on Jaskier.

“We need to go.” Letho shouted, his head ducking under the scaffold.

“Can you walk?” Geralt asked. Jaskier blinked at him, eyes still bleary before nodding.

Geralt grunted, not fully believing him but knowing it would be easier for him to fight if he wasn’t carrying Jaskier in his arms. Taking a knife, Geralt cut through the rope binding Jaskier’s hands together, wincing at the raw colour of his skin ne’er earth it before taking hold of Jaskier’s hand and pulling his lark to his feet. Jaskier wobbled softly, leaning heavily on Geralt’s side as he took in a harsh breath.

Geralt wrapped an arm around Jaskier, securing him to his side, holding his sword in his other hand. jaskier staggered along beside him, leaning heavily on Geralt as they followed Letho and Aukes from the square. Aukes and Letho both looked at Jaskier for a long moment before exiting the square, both nodding in relief when Jaskier offered them a tentative smile.

A loud explosion came from the other side of the port and Geralt swore. When he’s said he needed a distraction he shouldn’t have been surprised to find out Lambert’s idea of a distraction was to start blowing up the fucking navy’s ships but still.

Jaskier was walking nearly of his own free will, though Geralt still refused to relinquish his hold on Jaskier’s waist as they exited the square into the Main Street. The street was filled with people and soldiers running in all directions. People screaming and shouting and the sharp scent of fire and smoke in the air.

A soldier ran at them, sword out raised. Geralt instinctively pulled Jaskier closer, sheltering the injured man as he pulled his sword in front to defend them but there was no need. Aukes swiftly disarmed the soldier and Letho gutted him before he could even think to realise his sword had been thrown from his hand.

Geralt didn’t pause to look back, just started down the street towards the dingy were Coen was waiting for them. Letho and Aukes fell into place around he and Jaskier, Letho leading the way and Aukes watching their back.

As the ran, or fast walked as Jaskier was having difficulty keeping up with the fast pace the Witchers set, they almost ran into Lambert and the others. Lambert, Aidan and Axel were wearing identical shit eating grin while Gerd and Aubrey were looking at the 3 Witchers like they were crazy. Which they might well be. 

Looking behind them, Geralt saw a lack wall of smoke and fire encasing the port and he couldn’t help the smug satisfaction fill him. All 5 Witchers were covered in soot but at first glance there didn’t appear to be any injuries.

“You ok lark?” Aidan asked, eyes drifting to wear Jaskier was leaning against Geralt’s side. His eyes were closed, face scrunched up in pain as he tried to catch his breath from the running he had just done. Geralt silently cursed himself, Jaskier had been choking mere minutes ago and now here he was running like his life depended on it.

Jaskier offered a grin and a nod as a loud shot rang out from behind them. Lambert swore as the Witcher dove for cover from the incoming firing. Geralt grabbed Jaskier around the waist, throwing them both behind a fallen wagon. Jaskier collapsed, back to the wagon and eyes closed as Geralt grabbed his own pistol and returned the fire. Within minutes the Witchers had dispatched the soldiers in front of them and Geralt was crouching beside Jaskier, gently shaking his shoulder to rouse him into movement.

Jaskier opened bright blue eyes, face scrunched in pain as he offered Geralt a small smile. “‘M fine.” Jaskier murmured but the pain expression on his face said otherwise. Geralt’s eyes dropped unbid to the but on Jaskier’s neck, still bleeding sluggishly.

“We should go.” Jaskier breathed as the sound of footsteps echoed back down the streets. Geralt grunted, arm tightening around Jaskier’s waist as he pulled them both to standing. jaskier wobbled on his feet but they didn’t have time to wait for Jaskier to get his balance back as they were hurtling back down the street.

Geralt kept a tight grip on Jaskier’s waist as they followed Lambert leading the way back down to the port, dingy and Coen. Jaskier stumbled along beside him, breathing coming out in wheezing gasps but Geralt couldn’t slow down to check on him.

As the dingy came into view, Coen shouted, waving his hands. Lambert and Aidan dove into the boat, picking up the oars as Letho and Aukes jumped into the second boat with Gerd, Aubrey and Axel. Geralt and Jaskier followed Aidan and Lambert into the boat and the second they were in, the 2 dingy’s were being rowed from the shore.

Shouts echoed behind them and the sound of gunshots followed but the further from shore they got the more relief flooded Geralt. Lambert burning the ships down had had the added benefit of ensuring no one would follow them for a little while.

As the relief washed over him, Geralt let his eyes drop to where Jaskier was half collapsed into a corner of the dingy. Coen, Lambert and Aidan were looking at him worry as Geralt crouched next to him, gently stroking a hand through his hair.

Jaskier offered a silent smile up at him, breathing coming out faster than usual as he leant into Geralt’s touch. “Take it...running after nearly...being hanged...isn’t the best...idea.” Jaskier gasped, laughter flitting in his eyes.

Lambert grinned, laughing loudly as he nodded his head. “Our larks still got a mouth on him then.” Jaskier offered a silent smile before closing his eyes, leaning into Geralt’s touch.

As the Witcher cam further into view, Geralt wrapped his arms closer around Jaskier, the reassuring weight of Jaskier close next to him filling him with the relief he so desperately needed after days of not knowing if he would be ok or not.

.........

Jaskier let Geralt help him up the rope ladder that Eskel threw down for them. His lungs felt like he’d run 3 laps around Port Royale and his throat hurt. A firing sort of hurt that had Jaskier still feeling a bit like he was being choked. Jaskier’s limbs trembled as he climbed the rope ladder, Geralt next to him, a comforting presence by Jaskier’s side.

Arms grabbed hold of Jaskier and helped haul him over the side of the boat. Jaskier’s feet almost gave out when he was placed onto the ships deck but Geralt’s strong arms around his waist kept him upright. 

“Get yourselves to the cabin and cleaned up.” Eskel spoke, eyes scanning over Jaskier in a mixture of relief and worry. “We’ll get the ship moving.” Geralt grunted his thanks before leading Jaskier over the decking.

Jaskier followed numbly, body aching and shock still running through him. He had thought he was going to die. Fuck, he almost had. He’d almost been choked to death but a rope. A rope his own fucking Father had agreed to be placed around Jaskier’s neck. jaskier felt his heart clench at that thought. His own Father was going to let him die.

Jaskier stumbled on the decking as tears started to run down his face. he was distantly aware of shouts from behind him as Eskel got the crew into action sailing the ship away from Port Royale. Away from Jaskier’s home. A small part of Jaskier had always seen Port Royale as home despite everything that had happened. Had still believed hat if he chose to he could come back to Port Royale if need be.

But now...Now Jaskier could never go back. He was a pirate. A traitor. Someone they would hang the second they saw. The second his Father saw. Jaskier let out a choked sob as the realisation hit him. He could never go back. Even living in Tortuga, selling his own body for food and a roof over his fucking head Jaskier had known if all else failed he could make his way back to Port Royale, somehow. But now...Now he had no where. No one. No home or family. He was truly alone and that knowledge had Jaskier’s knees buckling underneath him.

Jaskier’s knees hit the deck, his head bowed as tear racked through him, sobs breaking from his wrecked throat. He was aware of Geralt beside him, warm and steady running a hand over his back trying to soothe him but Jaskier wasn’t paying attention to that. He felt like his heart was breaking into a million pieces as the realisation he had been hiding from himself since he had been dragged in front of his Father, as his Father was told what he was, what a disappointment his son was. As his Father stood by and did nothing, fucking nothing to stop Jaskier from being hanged, finally wracked through him.

He was alone. No home. No family. Nothing. Nothing but a filthy dirty, unwanted whore.


	17. Chapter 17

Geralt felt his heart break as he saw Jaskier crumple on the deck of the Witcher. Tears traced there way down Jaskier’s face as he sobbed, heart wrenching choking sobs. His whole body shook with the force of them as he knelt on the decking of the Witcher. Geralt heard the concerned questions of the crew around them as the ship started to move across the water. The cold air hit Geralt as he gently rubbed a hand down Jaskier’s spine. Except jaskier wasn’t moving, didn’t even react just continued to sob brokenly on his knees.

“Jaskier, we need to look at your injuries. Please.” Geralt grunted, pressing a kiss to Jaskier’s head as Jaskier just continued to sob. He was a mess, his clothing which was always so bright and colourful now caked in dirt and mud. They were the same clothes he’d been wearing the day he was taken but now the bright coloured shirt was ripped in places, no longer the bright vibrant red it had been but faded and discoloured from the days of being worn and forced to sleep in a cell.

“Please Jaskier.” Geralt murmured as he wrapped arms around Jaskier,s holding him close to his chest. Jaskier buried his face into Geralt’s chest, continuing to sob hitched harsh sobs. His breathing was laboured, made worse by the choking and running and now hysterical fucking crying.

“You can’t help me.” Jaskier whispered, voice croaky as he continued to cry into Geralt’s arms. “I’m just a filthy, dirty, useless whore and no one really wants me.”

“Of course we want you Jaskier.’ Geralt breathed, pain filling him as he pulled back so he could meet Jaskier’s bright blue eyes. 

“My own Father was going to let me hang. He was going to let me die.” Jaskier sobbed, heartbreak in his voice and Geralt had never wanted to kill a man more than the Governor of Port Royale in his entire fucking life.

“Fuck that bastard.” Geralt growled, eyes fierce as he looked at Jaskier.

“He’s right though.” Jaskier whispered, tears still running down his face. “I’m a disappointment to my family. I don’t belong there. I don’t belong anywhere.”

“That’s not true.” Geralt growled. “You belong here. With us. You’re a Witcher.”

“That’s right lark.” Eskel added, coming to crouch beside Jaskier and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You’re one of us.”

“Yeah, you’re part of our family.” Lambert added.

“Our lark.” Shouts from the crew followed and Geralt watched as Jaskier lifted his head, looking at the crew gathered in a circle around them as a small hesitant smile came on his face.

“You don’t care that I’m a Governor’s son?” Jaskier asked.

“Course not. After all, posh rich kids don’t climb the rigging like you.” Aidan said with a grin on his face.

“Or almost get drowned trying to save the Captain’s life.” Letho smirked.

“Or nearly get hanged keeping the Witcher’s secrets safe.” Aukes finished.

“You are a Witcher Jaskier.” Geralt promised, placing a kiss to Jaskier’s forehead. “And nothing can change that.”

.........

Geralt had had a bath filled for Jaskier and had spent over an hour running soap over every inch of Jaskier’s skin, rubbing the dirt and grime from Jaskier’s body. Geralt had rubbed his fingers into Jaskier’s hair, gently washing away the grease and grime from there before Jaskier was almost half asleep in the tub.

Geralt had washed away the blood on the cut the rope had made on Jaskier’s throat. It wasn’t so bad, the bleeding had stopped at some point during their run back to the Witcher and now the blood was cleared Jaskier didn’t think it would even scar. But his throat was still raw and painful to speak with. Gerd had sent up a honeyed spiced rum that Jaskier had almost choked on when he first swallowed but seemed to ease some of the pain in his injured throat.

Once Geralt had finished inspecting every injury, he had pulled Jaskier close to his body in the bed. Jaskier had come willingly, curling into Geralt’s side. “I’m sorry.” Jaskier murmured into Geralt’s side. Geralt hummed a question and Jaskier shackled softly. “For everything.”

“You have nothing to apologise for.” Geralt murmured.

“I go kidnapped, put you all at risk. I...”. Jaskier paused, tears stinging at his eyes as he stubbornly pushed them aside. He’d done enough crying for one day and refused to cry any more. “I didn’t want any of you to get hurt.”

“We would go to the ends of the earth for you lark.” Geralt murmured and Jaskier smiled softly.

“And so would I.” Jaskier whispered.

They lay that for a little while, both enjoying the feeling of having the other back in their arms. “You know I always thought I could just go home if things got too bad.” Jaskier whispered into the silence, fingers coming to trail Geralt’s chest.

“Why didn’t you?” Geralt asked, his voice a gentle hum under Jaskier’s head, rested on his chest as it was.

Jaskier frowned, turning his face to look at Geralt’s bright amber eyes. “What?”

“Why didn’t you go home when you...”. Geralt trailed off, an angry glare appearing on his face and jaskier found himself smiling softly.

“When I whored myself out for money.”

“You’re not a whore.” Geralt growled, arms tightening in Jaskier’s arms.

Jaskier smiled, lifting his face to press a chaste kiss to Geralt’s lips. “I was though Geralt. Just like you’re a pirate.” Jaskier chuckled softly. “That could make an interesting song don’t you think. A pirate and a prostitute.”

“You’re not a prostitute any more.” Geralt grumbled, amber eyes blazing fiercely.

“No, I suppose I’m not.” jaskier breathed, letting his head rest against Geralt’s forehead.

“You never answered my question.” Geralt grumbled. “Why didn’t you go home?”

“I...”. Jaskier paused, brow furrowing as he considered Geralt’s words. He didn’t really know why he never had. His life had been horrendous living in Tortuga before meeting Geralt. Sleeping with pirates, letting them use his body just so he could eat. Except as much as Jaskier had toyed with the idea he had never gone back to Port Royale. Even when he’d gone to the Sorceresses Lodge, were he had been earning enough money to buy passage on one of the merchant vessels known to frequent the pirate port he still never had. “I suppose I never really wanted to go back.” jaskier finally said, a strange look passing over his face.

“What are you thinking?” Geralt asked, worry in his amber eyes.

jaskier chuckled, pressing his lips to Geralt’s in a soft chaste kiss. “Nothing bad. I just...I never really thought about it before and...”. Jaskier paused for a moment, searching for the right words. “My Father was a good man you know.” Jaskier found himself speaking. “We were never close but he was...he was never cruel to me.” Geralt hummed in acknowledgement. “And I never wanted for anything. I was...I was a spoilt rich kid. You must think I’m a fool for leaving it.” 

“No.” Geralt growled, amber eyes blazing as he wrapped his arms tighter around Jaskier.

“But I left a decent life, one were I was safe and didn’t have a fucking care in the world for...for a dark alley in the middle of Tortuga.” Jaskier whispered.

“You told me you left because you wanted an adventure.” Geralt murmured. “That you didn’t want that life, the one your Father mapped out for you. I don’t think you’re a fool. I think you’re the bravest man there is. You left a life were you had everything for uncertainty and you never once doubted it.”

“Some might call that arrogance.” Jaskier pointed out, a soft smile on his face.

Geralt frowned, shaking his head. “No. It’s brave.”

Jaskier considered that for a moment. “I just never thought about the possibility that I might never be able to go home and now...”. Jaskier trailed off, heart clenching painfully once more at that thought.

“Do you want to go home?” Geralt asked, voice filled with concern and apprehension. “If you could, would you go home?”

“No.” jaskier answered immediately, without hesitation. “I love you, I wouldn’t leave you.”

Geralt hummed, a smile on his face. “Then this is your home Jaskier. No where else. For as long as you want it.” And Jaskier couldn’t help but lean down and kiss Geralt as fiercely as he possibly could. Geralt was right, this was his home. On the Witcher, surrounded by his friends and family, wrapped in the arms of the man he loved.

......

It was 2 months after leaving Port Royale when Geralt saw it. They were in a small port just off Jamaica, grabbing supplies before heading to Cintra with the new cargo they had stolen. Geralt had been walking back to the Witcher when he spotted the lute, sitting in the shop window.

It had been slow going getting Jaskier back to the annoying bright man he had been before his near hanging but over the last 2 months Jaskier had taken to singing and laughing at every opportunity. The first few weeks of his return, Jaskier had been quiet, seemingly unsure of himself. It had been an odd and hard time for all the Witchers, all of them wishing for Jaskier to be as outgoing and happy as he been deviously.

Geralt didn’t know what had tipped Jaskier back to his singing but one day he had walked the decking to hear Jaskier softly humming as he scrubbed the deck of the ship, a smile on his face. After that Jaskier started to smile, laugh and talk as much as he had previously. 4 weeks after leaving Port Royale Jaskier had stood on the table in the galley of the Witcher and started to sing. The Witchers had been an uproar of shouting in merriment as they threw songs at Jaskier all night until their lark was breathless, voice croaky and a bright and happy grin on his face as he settled in Geralt’s arms that night.

After that night the sound of Jaskier’s voice was continuously heard once more every moment of the day on the Witcher and the tension that had been thick in the air since Jaskier had been taken was gone. Except something had been missing, Geralt hadn’t realised what until he spotted the lute in the window.

It wasn’t a fancy lute, simple in it’s carving but polished to a gleam but as Geralt looked at it he realised what it was. Every time Jaskier sang his hands would come subconsciously to where his lute always hung around his shoulders. His hands would twitch whenever he thought of new song lyrics, as if looking for his lute to work on the new tune. Jaskier had never said a word about his lost instrument. But as Geralt walked into the store he realised seeing Jaskier without the instrument was just wrong. Jaskier was made for singing and laughter and music. His lute was his way of giving his music to the world.

The price was extortionate for a simple piece of carved wood and strings in Geralt’s opinion but he gladly paid the money over if for nothing else but to see the bright excited gleam in Jaskier’s eyes when he gifted it to him.

As Geralt walked back to the Witcher, he caught sight of a flash of bright orange in the rigging and couldn’t help the chuckle he let out as he watched Jaskier moving down the rigging. In a sea of black, the bright colourful person that was Jaskier would always stand out, if for no other reason than the bright assortment of clothes he seemed to find at every port.

“Good afternoon dear heart.” jaskier smiled, jumping onto the decking in front of Geralt and leaning in to kiss Geralt’s lips. Geralt hummed, smiling at the sight of Jaskier’s bright blue eyes, brown hair swept across his face. His smile was warm and welcoming as Geralt leant into the kiss, enjoying the taste of salt water on Jaskier’s lips.

As they pulled away Geralt stepped back, taking the lute from behind his back and passing it to Jaskier. Jaskier looked at the instrument with a strange look in his eyes, hands coming to hover over the case but not touch. “It’s a new lute.”

“Geralt you should have.” Jaskier whispered, hands taking the case from Geralt’s arms even as he spoke.

“I wanted to.’ Geralt grunted, watching with a warm feeling in his chest as Jaskier pulled the lute from its case. His slender fingers ran over the strings, automatically coming to tune to the instrument.

“Geralt.” Jaskier whispered, gently placing the lute back in it’s case. “Thank you.” And then Geralt’s arms were filled with a grinning happy smiling lark. Geralt couldn’t help the warm laugh that came from him as he tightened his hold around Jaskier’s waist.

The Witcher’s had never realised they were missing anything in their lives. Believed they deserved the fate they had been given but as Geralt. Held Jaskier close to him, compelling the scent that was purely his Jaskier, Geralt realised they had been wrong. It had just taken Jaskier to prove to them that they truly did deserve love and happiness and kindness. And Geralt would be forever grateful for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you all enjoyed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoy


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